Missing Pieces
by GingerWitchWriter
Summary: Ron and Hermione have a happy life together. 2.4 kids, successful careers and a strong, happy marriage. Until tragedy strikes. Life is no longer so happy and, after an alarming find, about to become even more rocky. Can things ever be the same again? Rated M for some language and content, as well as a few later adult scenes.
1. Chapter 1

_This story has been a long time in the works. It lay abandoned for a year after a bout of writers block and then getting a new job and not having time. But...now I have finally finished it and cleaned it up...and I am sharing it with you!_

_It's been awhile since I have shared any of my writing with people, so please be kind...this is my first Harry Potter fanfic and I'm quite proud of it :) I hope you enjoy!_

_And, now I give you:_

**Missing Pieces**

"Molly?" I called, stepping carefully over the grate as I arrived via the floo network at The Burrow. Unclasping my travelling cloak, I draped it over the corner of the sofa, laying my briefcase on top, listening for the sound of voices. But the only sounds came from the soft clicking of knitting needles in the corner, churning out yet another family jumper I suspected. "Molly? Arthur?" I called again as I continued wandering through the house

The moment I stepped inside the kitchen I was engulfed in the delicious scent of vanilla and warm treacle. Molly had been baking again and I inhaled the divine smells hungrily, my mouth already watering. It seemed a very long time since my rather limp sandwich at lunch. On the worktop, knives were busy chopping up vegetables in preparation for dinner. The soapy pan scrub in the sink was busy working on an old and very tarnished frying pan, whilst the kettle merrily whistled away to itself. Yet the house seemed to be empty.

And then I finally spied them all through the window, playing together outside in the garden and making the most of the first decent warm weather we'd had this year. Spring had been rather late to make an appearance. I smiled fondly at my family looking happy and carefree, before rushing outside to join them.

"Mummy!" A small, red curly haired little girl saw me first and charged down the lawn to greet me.

"Hi sweetie," I greeted her as she crashed into my leg and hung on tightly. She grinned up at me, her smile wide and displaying the gap from her first lost tooth. Scooping her up in my arms, I kissed her cheek and hugged her close, breathing in the scent of my four year old daughter – she smelt of sunshine and freshly mown grass. "Have you had a nice day?" I asked her, perching her on my hip and heading further down the garden towards her grandma and little brother.

"Uh huh," she nodded, enthusiastically. "We did baked cookies with Grandma! I maded you one," she whispered against my ear and gave me a slobbery kiss.

"You made me one," I corrected her, brushing back stray strands of wayward hair and tucking them into the bunches I'd tied her hair up in that morning. Poor Rose had inherited my uncontrollable hair, although she had her father's red colouring.

She nodded. "Yes, I maded you one, I put M on it for mummy. And then I maded one with R for Rosie and a H for Hugo. For our names mummy!" she explained proudly, as though I wouldn't understand without her clarification.

"They sound lovely. I can't wait to try them," I smiled at her exuberance and kissed her forehead. "And what did your brother do?" I wondered, hesitantly. Hugo had a knack for getting himself into trouble, despite only being a couple of months over the age of two.

"He maded no cookies and just eated all his dough," she sighed, as though her brother was hard work for her. "And then he chased after the gnomes in the garden and one nearly bited him. But grandma saved him," she exclaimed, her arms waving madly.

"Mummy!" Hugo looked up from his digging in the mud and grinned at me. He was covered in dirt, but he looked so happy. "I look worms!" He added excitedly and returned to his digging as though it was the most important task in the world.

"I hear you've had a busy day, young man?" I set Rose down and knelt to kiss my son hello, brushing back his soft ginger hair. He needed a haircut – again. His hair always grew so quickly, but I suspected it wasn't completely by itself. Already they were both showing spurts of magic unconsciously.

"He's not been too bad today," Molly added, setting another bundle of knitting down as she moved up on the garden bench for me to join her. With such a big brood of children, in-laws and grandchildren now – she started earlier and earlier on Christmas gifts these days. "You've been a good boy today, haven't you Hugo?" she asked her grandson.

He merely looked up briefly, offered us all a cheeky little grin and giggled, before returning to the worm hunt. "What are you hunting the worms for sweetheart?" I asked him.

"Gnomes eat them!" He flicked dirt up in the air.

"Well, I think they can find their own dinner, thank you. And I don't think you want worms for your dinner, do you?" I joked. His eyes looked up at me wide in horror at the very thought of having to eat them. "Come here my little nargle!" I laughed at him, before plucking him from the grass and sat down with him on my lap. Much to my children's amusement, I often referred to my son as a nargle, as my friend Luna, who was one of the only people in the world I knew to believe in them, claimed they were very mischievous. And so was my son. "Look at you, a face full of mud," I grimaced playfully at him and used my wand to siphon the mud off him as he giggled – apparently the action tickled.

"How was work?" Molly asked me as I hugged my children, allowing Rose to climb up between us.

"Busy," I sighed. "I spent the entire day in Kingsley's office again, going through more old law books. You wouldn't believe the amount of silly laws that had been made against Muggles and Muggle-borns in years past. We're trying to find them all and get them eradicated. It's just taking so long having to read through these huge, old books and write everything down. Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake, changing departments." I confessed.

"But you still enjoy the work, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes. It's very fulfilling. I like that I'm able to make a difference now. I didn't have much leeway in helping the elves or any other beings in the creature department, they were all more concerned in controlling them and keeping them away from Muggles. Hopefully, once I have these Muggle-born laws complete, I can start on magical beings and get them more rights. I could just do with a dozen more pair of eyes to read all this text," I sighed as I let a squirming Hugo down off my lap.

"What if you went back to work full time?" she wondered.

I shook my head. "I couldn't do that. I enjoy my job and I like the work. But, my children are more important and I love them much more. Ron and I agreed on that," I mumbled his name quietly.

"Well, if anyone can get there, I know you can Hermione. I know the way you work," she patted my arm comfortingly. "Now, why don't you come on inside and I'll make you a cup of tea whilst I finish making our supper. You are staying to eat with us, aren't you?" she checked, just as she did every Wednesday.

"Of course," I smiled and began rounding my children up. "Come on, let's go drag your Grandpa out of his shed and get him to play with you." I told them. Arthur loved spending an hour with the children before dinner, reading to them, sometimes bringing a comic home for them or playing a game together.

Arthur was 60 years old now and semi-retired. With the children all grown up and moved out, settled in good jobs and supporting their parents when they allowed, there wasn't any need for him to work such gruelling hours as he had once done. Only, he loved his job too much to give it up completely, so he still worked a few hours a week. And if he wasn't at work, he could usually be found in his shed – still tinkering with Muggle devices!

Once the children were settled in the front room with their grandpa, and an old Muggle jigsaw puzzle he'd dug out from his work shed for them to build together, Molly set a cup of tea in front of me at the large, wooden farmhouse table. It was covered in aged dents and scratches – some deliberate from her wayward sons carving their names or drawings into the dark wood, which they'd no doubt been severely reprimanded for. Some people might have thrown it out or sanded the impairments out – but I always felt it was merely a sign of a well loved and lived in home.

I took a sip of the tea and sighed contently, setting the mug back on the coaster. "Oh, that's good," I smiled at her as she offered me a biscuit. "No thanks," I shook my head, "dinner smells delicious and I'd hate to ruin it."

For a few minutes we shared the homely kitchen in comfortable silence as she continued preparing the meal and I enjoyed my tea. I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes to enjoy the brief quiet moments alone with nothing to do.

"Hermione," Molly started and I heard her pull out a chair opposite me as I opened my eyes. "I was wondering…would you like Arthur and I to have the children this weekend? I mean…I know it would have been your…"

"Why? It's not as though I'd have anything planned, would I?" I snapped and then instantly regretted it when I saw the hurt look on her face. "I'm sorry," I apologised. "I just…I was trying to forget," I shrugged sheepishly, realising how foolish that was. As if I could.

"You don't need to apologise to me, dear," she patted my hand across the table. "I understand better than most. But, maybe you'd like to stay over as well? I mean…perhaps you shouldn't be alone this weekend?" she suggested delicately.

I shook my head slowly. "I don't think so." I whispered, my eyes filling with tears when I caught sight of the initials, RBW carved in childish handwriting into the wood of the table. Unconsciously I traced them with the tips of my fingers. "I mean…I just…I think I'd rather be alone," I looked up, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "I appreciate the offer, but I hope that's okay with you? I'm sure Rosie and Hugo would love to stay though. They'd have a lousy time with me this weekend." I added, giving her a watery smile.

"Of course that's okay, anything you want dear. And…you know where we are if you need us. We'll keep the children with us then, I mean after their usual Friday morning here? You could take them home after dinner on Sunday?" she suggested, brightly, eager to change the sombre mood.

"Sounds like a good idea." I agreed and placed my hand over the carved initials so I couldn't see them anymore.

"Good," she nodded and finished preparing dinner, before calling her husband and grandchildren to the table.

I enjoyed these meals with my in-laws after a busy day at work. It was nice to have a meal cooked for you when you felt too tired to even think about what to cook yourself. Wednesday was the only full day I worked now, going part time after Hugo was born. I'd needed to return to work for the money and because my job was important to me in the Law Enforcement department of the Ministry of Magic, where I worked under the Minister. But, I also realised that my children needed me now more then ever, just as desperately as I needed them and that they were far more important than any job ever could be. So, I worked three half days and one full day a week now, with Monday off. Family helped me with the children, between my mum, Ginny and my mother-in-law, we made sure they were both well cared for and I was with them as much as I could be. It was a solution that had so far worked for us the last couple of years anyway.

"I think I'd best get these sleepy heads home," I commented after indulging in a large helping of shepherds pie followed by two naughty slices of treacle tart. Hugo was sat on his grandpa's lap, nodding off and Rosie was lolling against my arm as I finished my second cup of tea.

"I'll go get their things together for you," Molly stood, glancing at her husband cuddling his grandson and not wanting to disturb them. "Oh, and don't forget your cookies Rose," she added, carefully wrapping them in a paper bag for the children to take home.

With Arthur's help, I got the children ready to go and we were stood beside the fireplace when Molly returned with their packed bag.

"Thank you," I hitched it on my shoulder, juggled my briefcase in one hand and then took Hugo from Arthur and grasped Rose's hand.

"Now, we'll see you on Friday morning. And they're staying the weekend, right?" Molly checked.

"They are?" Arthur asked in surprise. "Wonderful," he beamed at his grandchildren as Molly nodded.

"And your mum has them tomorrow?"

"Yes. As usual," I smiled patiently, really wanting to be off. Hugo wasn't such a light weight anymore.

"Let them get off home Molly, love." Arthur grinned at me.

"Oh, right. Yes. Goodnight then," she kissed the grandchildren and then myself. "And we'll see you on Friday. Bye darlings."

"Bye," the children waved sleepily as I clumsily grasped a handful of floo powder with my hands full, tossed it into the flames and stated the name of our home.

Within seconds we were climbing from the fireplace of our own home. The floo over had roused the children somewhat and they both darted towards their boxes of toys under the window in our large lounge.

"Ah ah!" I warned them, finally being able to kick my shoes off and dump all the things I was holding onto the sofa. "Upstairs, both of you. It's bath time."

"Aaw," Rosie sulked and stuck out her bottom lip.

"No, Rosie. It's getting late and Mummy's tired."

"But, I not tired Mummy!" She persisted.

"Come on, up those stairs young lady!" I picked up Hugo who had been ignoring me and already pulled out a toy fire engine my parents had bought him for his last birthday. He wailed in protest as I carted him up to the bathroom and chased his sister up before us.

Once I had them both bathed, dried and snuggled in their pyjamas, I allowed Rosie to play in her room for a few minutes whilst I tucked Hugo in and read him his bedtime story. As usual, he wanted the same one – every night I had to read the one about the dragon who had a tea party and finished up playing Quidditch on a team. He still chuckled and gasped in all the same places, and although the story now bored me rigid, his reactions and pure enjoyment more than made up for that.

"Night night my sweet Huey boy," I kissed him as we finished the story. He giggled at his silly nickname. It hadn't been my idea. "Sleep tight, don't let the nargles bite. I'll see you in the morning sweetheart. I love you," I whispered and kissed him once more, brushing his hair back from his eyes as he snuggled under the sheets, his eyes already closing. With a flick of my wand, the lights turned out and his little night light – a glass jar full or glowing orbs – gave him just enough light not to be frightened by the shadows.

"Night night Mummy," he murmured sleepily through the thumb in his mouth, as I closed his door too, leaving a gap.

"Mummy?" Rose started the second I opened her door. She was sat on the floor, arranging her dolls and stuffed animals around a doll sized table and pouring them all 'tea'. "Can I eat grandma's cookies now?" she asked, hopefully.

"No. Not tonight." I told her firmly.

"Aww, but Mummy!" she pouted and folded her arms. "That's not fair!" she sulked, throwing the last of her toys down harshly, knocking all the china teacups over.

"You may eat them tomorrow, after your lunch." I led her to bed and pulled the covers back. "Now, let's hop into bed and then you'll have something to look forward to tomorrow, won't you?"

She huffed, but climbed into bed, still with a pout on. I had to smile – she did look cute and I knew her dad would have given into her instantly. "Oh, come on sweetheart. I promise we'll all have them for our lunch tomorrow."

"But I didn't make nana one," she looked up at me in a panic, realising that my mum would be with us for lunch. She usually drove over to us for lunch and then stayed with the children whilst I went to work for the afternoon.

"That's okay sweetheart," I sat on the side of the bed with her and smoothed her hair down. "Nana doesn't like sweet things anyway, does she?"

Rose cheered up at that and shook her head. "No, she says it rods your teef or something"

"I think you mean it rots your teeth, sweetheart,"I kissed the top of her head. "But it's okay to have them occasionally, so long as we remember to brush our teeth too." I found myself lecturing.

"Daddy liked sweet things though, didn't he Mummy?" she snuggled against me.

I nodded. "Yes, he did." I whispered and held her a little tighter.

"When we was making cookies today, I asked Gwandma if I could make one for daddy too…and she cried Mummy. So I didn't make him one," she shook her head sadly. "Why did she cry mummy?" she looked up at me innocently.

I bit my bottom lip to stop my tears and took a deep breath before I answered her. "I think, sweetheart, because she misses daddy just as much as we do. He was her little baby, like you and Hugo will always be my little babies. And, it's very sad when we miss someone, isn't it?"

She nodded and looked sad. "I do miss my daddy." She buried her head against me and held on tight.

"Me too darling," I stroked her hair and spoke softly. "I miss him very, very much. But it's okay to miss people and cry, it just means that we love them so very much," I held her and for a few moments we sat quietly and cuddled together as we remembered him. "Now," I sniffed and wiped my eyes, "what story would you like me to read tonight?" I forced a smile for her.

She handed me the book she had got ready – one of my Muggle books from my childhood – the story of Cinderella. "Princesses? Again?" I asked her and tickled her tummy. She had suddenly become obsessed with these books and loved being able to regale her cousins with this world of fairy tales that they had never heard of.

"Yes," she giggled. "Cause daddy said I was his Princess."

"He did," I remembered. "And you're mine too," I smiled, though silently wondered where all this stuff with her dad was coming from. She hadn't mentioned him for awhile.

We settled in her bed together and before the end of the story, she had fallen asleep snuggled up to me. Carefully I tucked her in, kissed her forehead and whispered goodnight to her. "I love you Rosie Posie. See you in the morning."

As I crept from her room, out into the hallway, I breathed a sigh of relief that they were both already asleep – it wasn't always that easy to get them to bed. But a day spent at grandma's usually tired them out. With the children safe and settled for the night, I stepped inside my room and began undressing as I headed for the en-suite bathroom to run a deep bubble bath – it was time for a little mummy time.

Although he was never far from my mind and I missed him every second of every day, Rose talking about her dad tonight and the fact that this weekend was significant to us had affected me more than usual and I allowed myself to break down – something I tried not to do very often for the sake of my children. I lay soaking in the tub longer than usual, allowing the tears to fall and the grief to engulf me once more. So that by the time I climbed into bed, it was already after 10pm and I was too exhausted to do anything but close my eyes and hope sleep took me into sweet oblivion.

These days, it wasn't unusual to find myself in bed before 9pm. I hated being downstairs all alone after the children were in bed – it was far too quiet and cold and lonely. I'd find myself sat staring at the wall, chasing demons in my head and spending too long brooding over things I simply couldn't change and fighting back the tears that threatened to fall numerous times each day – it was a constant battle with myself. After awhile, I finally realised it was no good for me to just sit there, and started taking myself to bed early with a cup of cocoa and some paperwork to distract me. Not that I ever accomplished much, more often than not I fell asleep in the middle of it and would wake in the morning to a bed littered with books and papers.

Of course, things hadn't always been like this. I hadn't always been a single parent. No, just under two years ago I had had the perfect family life, the full package. A loving, kind and loyal husband, the children had had a loving, devoted daddy and between us a happy, though loud, home full of laughter. Sometimes it was hard to remember what it had been like before. And then other times, like tonight, the memories were hard to keep away.

"_Ron!" I sighed in frustration, backing through the lounge doorway with my arms full of his clothes. "How many times have I asked you to…what in Merlin's name are you doing?" I shrieked, dropping the clothes in a heap and staring wide eyed at him._

_I could hardly believe my eyes for a moment. There he was, lying on his back on the floor in the middle of the lounge, with our son, barely eight months old, levitating above him with magic. Ron was twiddling his wand, making the baby roll over and turn in mid-air. Rose sat on her daddy's knees watching – giggling and clapping in glee – obviously thinking this was the best game ever._

"_Don't worry, he loves it! Look!" He grinned at me and flicked his wand as the baby did a somersault in the air. Hugo screamed with laughter, the smile of his face as wide as the Cheshire cat._

"_Be careful with him!"I screamed, leaping over to pluck our son out of the air and hold him safely in my arms. "He's just a baby Ronald! How could you?" I glared at him, checking Hugo for signs of damage. _

"_Oh, come on Hermione, you worry too much. You could see he was having fun," he insisted, nodding his head towards the little boy who was reaching back for his daddy as Ron sat up. Mummy obviously wasn't half as much fun, I realised._

"'_Ugo like it Mummy!" Rose stuck up for her daddy. "Don't you 'Uey?" She asked her baby brother. _

_The whole time I had been pregnant with our son, Ron and I had worried consistently over the probability of sibling rivalry. Rose, after all. had been our little Princess for the past two years and had all of our love and attention lavished on her. But, we needn't have wasted that time being worried. Apart from a few slight hiccups in the first few days as we adjusted to being parents to two children, which included her demanding she'd much rather have a baby kitten than a baby brother, she truly loved him. She was the perfect, protective, loving and kind big sister. Not to say she didn't have her moments, because she did, but they were few and far between._

"_Ga Ga!" Hugo shrieked, his little hands opening and closing as he reached for daddy, squirming away from me._

"_He's not a toy for your entertainment! He's our son." I pulled him back into my arms and kissed his downy soft head._

"_Hermione, love, I'd never do anything to hurt him. You know that. He was quite safe, I promise. He was just a bit cranky and that makes him laugh."_

"_You mean you've done this before?" I asked, alarmed._

"_Lots!" Rose let on, throwing her hands into the air. Ron pulled her onto his lap and tickled her whilst screwing his nose up at her in a playful menacing look for telling tales. Rose screamed with laughter and Hugo desperately wanted to join in with them. _

"_What if you dropped him or he fell, or…"_

"_I wouldn't let him. Don't be such a fusspot, love. He was perfectly fine. I'd never let anything bad happen to our kids. You know that." He picked Rose up and got to his feet. "But, I'm sorry I scared you," he pouted as he stood before me and kissed my forehead. "Forgive me?" he asked._

"_Well, just…be careful with him," I muttered, giving in and handing the baby boy back to his dad who set Rose on her feet._

"_I promise," he sealed it with another kiss to my lips. "Now, what did you come in here moaning about me for?" he raised one pale ginger eyebrow, almost hidden beneath a long fringe._

"_Your dirty clothes. On the bathroom floor again. You could at least put them in the laundry basket, I've asked you a thousand times and…" my words were cut off as he leant in and kissed me softly, lovingly._

"_You were saying?" he grinned when he backed off, setting Hugo carefully down on the sofa behind us._

"_I…I…" I stammered, forgetting what I had been talking about. Damn him – he knew how to get to me every time and I always fell for it. Each kiss felt like the first – it seemed ridiculous to still get butterflies from kissing someone you'd been married to for five years and in a relationship with for an additional five years. But I did and he'd worked out a long time ago that that was the surest way of getting me to finish an argument._

"_I'm sorry?" he raised his eyebrow again, making it sound like a question. "Can you forgive me, or do I need to make it up to you later?" he grinned and winked, pulling me closer to him and grasping my backside._

"_Ron!" I gasped and glanced at the children – Rose had climbed up onto the sofa with her brother and was too busy showing him a picture book to be interested in what their parents were up to. We were lucky – they were too young to understand what we were talking about and too naïve to be embarrassed about it yet. "I…I think you'll have lots of making up to do," I eventually breathed. "Lots!" I whimpered as one hand slid down my side, grazing my breast._

"_I look forward to it," he whispered and swooped in to claim my lips again. The kiss was a little deeper as his hands brought my body flush against his and my arms slipped around his neck, increasing the passion._

_At least until we were interrupted by a tugging on our clothes. "Rosie kisses too!" demanded our two year old, somewhat precocious but adored, daughter._

"_Okay,." Ron laughed. "Rosie Posie kisses too," and he swooped her up into our arms, smothering her face with silly, playful kisses as she giggled wildly and kissed us back. Picking Hugo up to join the group hug, we kissed him too amidst shrieks of uncontrollable laughter, until we all collapsed on the sofa, worn out from laughing too much. "I love you," Ron looked up at me over Rosie's red curls and leant over her to kiss my lips tenderly once more._

"_I love you too," I smiled at him. "And tonight I look forward to your making up."_

"_I'm counting the minutes!" he laughed. "But, for now," he sat Rose down beside him and stood up, "I'll go start dinner, and put these in the laundry," he scooped the clothes from the floor and headed for the kitchen._

_I hugged both our children to me, grinning widely and wondering what I'd ever done to be so lucky with my happy, loving little family._

But, of course, nothing lasts forever, not even good times. I just never imagined fate could be so cruel as to destroy our happiness after five too short years of a wonderful marriage and a happy family life. If only I'd known, I'd have married him years before, had children sooner But fate, it turns out, is a sadistic bitch and ripped my happy world out from under me just a few weeks later in one fell swoop.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you SO much for the few reviews I have already received for my first chapter - much appreciated! I was kind of nervous to post my writing again. And, sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted, was going to do it a couple of days ago, but...life happens!**_

_**Hope you like this one...explains a bit more of what is going on.**_

_**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all her characters belong to JK Rowling. I am just borrowing them for a little while and will return them safely when I'm done. Thank you.**_

**Chapter Two**

I'll never forget that day Harry turned up on my doorstep, pounding on my front door at 2.30 in the morning and waking me from sleep. Ron had been out the past few days on a mission with the Auror department, and, as always when he was away, I wasn't sleeping very well. A knock on the door in the middle of night when your husband was off fighting evil crime can never be good news. And it was with dread that I made my way to the front door.

"Harry," I yawned, and let him in. "Where's Ron?" I demanded when he didn't follow behind him. Harry just looked at me and I knew. "I'll get dressed," I told him, heading for the stairs. "And grab the kids, we can be at the hospital in a few moments." I added.

"No, Hermione…he's, erm...I…"

"Unca Hawwy!" Rosie had been woken too from the knocking and dashed down the stairs, clinging onto the banister and hurrying her steps as she dragged her fluffy bunny behind her. As she reached the bottom step, she jumped off it and into her Uncle's arms.

"Hey there Rosie Posie," he whispered, using her dad's pet name for her that was now used by the whole family.

"Where James and Alby and…baby Lily?" she asked, grinning up at her Uncle.

"They're all asleep honey. Just like you should be, it's late for little girls." Harry glanced back at me and seeing the faraway look on my face, he carried her upstairs. "Come on, let's take you back to bed."

I remained standing in the middle of the lounge in a stunned silence, barely moving, barely even breathing. Trying not to think on Harry's words too much, but failing dismally. What had he meant when he said No? Was Ron not in the hospital? Did this have nothing to do with Ron? Maybe I just wasn't able to visit him yet, probably still being healed. Or maybe Ron had just sent him with a message or…oh God no….what if…no, no… I couldn't, I wouldn't even contemplate that.

Harry returned downstairs a few minutes later. "Got her back into bed, she's fast asleep already," he offered me a weak smile.

"Huh?"I looked up, not having a clue what he was talking about.

"Hermione…" he began gently. "You…you should probably sit down." He took a seat himself.

I shook my head defiantly and bit my lip. If I didn't do as he said, he couldn't tell me anything bad.

He took a deep breath then and wrung his hands, with his head bent, not able to meet my eye. "I can't believe I have to tell you this," he muttered.

"Then don't," I whispered.

"Hermione," he looked up at me. And that look was so full of sorrow and regret and guilt that I just knew. And before he'd even told me, I crumbled to the floor and someone somewhere was screaming the word 'no' repeatedly between heavy sobs.

I barely noticed him move and sit on the floor beside me and wrap his arm around me. I turned and wept into his shoulder as he gently patted my back. "He's missing." He mumbled the words, almost as though to himself, as if he couldn't believe them either. "He's missing in combat. There's just…there's no sign on him, nothing. There was a big battle, a lot of wand duelling and everyone lost sight of him. Last anyone saw, he was fighting two guys at once, but no one saw what happened after that. He's just…vanished." He shrugged helplessly.

"What do you mean?" I looked up at him. "How…how can he just vanish?" I frowned, glaring at Harry as though this was his fault. They were supposed to look out for one another, keep each other safe. They'd promised!

He slowly shook his head, slowly. "I don't know what else to tell you Hermione. We can't find him. There," he swallowed, "there were a lot of bodies once the fighting stopped. Mostly there side, but we lost two guys, novices out on their first mission. But, Ron…there's simply no sign of him. We looked for hours, but…" he faded off.

I sat back and wiped my eyes on my sleeve, understanding there was still hope. "Do you think he's been taken? I mean, by these guys you were after? What if he was taken as leverage?" I became panic stricken again at the idea.

"I don't know…believe me, I have called in every available Auror and got them all out looking for him, searching every known residence and hiding place of there's. And breaking through curses to find more. If he's been taken, we'll find him." He promised me.

I barely listened to what he said, my mind was running away on it's own – thinking up one terrible scenario after another. "Or, maybe…maybe he disapparated suddenly, in the chaos of the battle and got splinched. Harry, he could be hurt somewhere!" I looked at him urgently and grabbed a hold of his arm, shaking him. "He needs us Harry, we have to find him!"

"I know," he took my hand in his. "And I promise we won't stop looking. We've already been searching for hours, we have loads of trained guys out there. But…I'm so sorry Hermione, maybe you should prepare yourself… it, it doesn't look good." He hung his head sorrowfully.

I shook my head fiercely. "No…" I whispered harshly. "He's, he's okay. I know he is. If…if he was…" I swallowed the lump in my throat as I stumbled over the word. "If he was…gone. I'd feel it, here," I placed my hand on my chest and gave Harry a watery smile. "He's okay," I repeated, trying to convince myself.

Harry stayed with me that night. And a multitude of various people came to be with me through those following torturous days as they continued searching for him. Living in limbo like this, not knowing what had happened to my husband was one of the worst experiences I had ever had – far worse than our year on the run hunting for horcuxes, more terrible than our conflict in the Department of Mysteries, more terrifying than fighting in the battle of Hogwarts, and even more excruciating than being tortured by Bellatrix.

I don't know how I got through those few weeks, I was barely functioning and I can't remember much about it to be honest – just that the hope I clung to dimmed a little more each day that he wasn't found. The whole time was a painful blur. I think my Mum stayed over to take care of the children, I could hardly look after myself I was that much of a nervous wreck. Every time I heard the crack of an apparation or the whoosh of the floo, I jumped, expecting it to be Ron, home safe and sound. And every time it wasn't, I was a little more disappointed and upset every time. That light of hope was slowly fading. Night after night I prayed he'd come back to me as I lay in our bed, hugging his pillow tight before eventually crying myself to sleep with it in my arms.

And yet, I was about to be hit with the worst blow of my life. They say that not knowing is worse than realising the truth, but I beg to differ. At least not knowing you can still hold out some hope, no matter how unreasonable that may be. But, being told they're gone, that they're dead…well that's it: game over. The day Harry turned up, tearful himself, to tell me they'd had to call off the search, that officially Ron was reported as missing, presumed killed, was the single very worst moment of my entire life. Harry spoke with such remorse and guilt as he explained they'd exhausted every magical and physical means to find him and there was nothing more they could do. He was so angry, already he'd kept his team looking longer than they usually would for a fallen colleague, until finally his boss had told him it was useless, they were just wasting time now and risking losing more Aurors.

I didn't know it at the time, too distraught with my own grief, but Harry felt he had let Ron down, that they were giving up on him. They'd promised to look after one another and had always had each others back since they were 11 year old kids. And now, he'd betrayed him in the worst way.

I didn't want to believe a word of what I was being told. I insisted to everyone he was still okay, that he would come home. We'd find him and he'd be just fine. And for awhile I believed myself, or I think I wanted to. But, although I still sometimes saw the faintest glimmer of a spark of hope, I had to accept I was deluding myself when Harry handed me Ron's deluminator, the one and only thing they had found in their thorough search.

"I'm so sorry," he hugged me as we cried together. "I love him too, you know."

I nodded sadly, tears pouring in silent streams down my face, understanding what he meant, Ron and Harry were like brothers – had been from the moment they met. My Mum had taken the children out for a walk when Harry turned up, something she was doing a lot lately to distract them and so they didn't have to see their Mum so hysterical with grief. I held the deluminator in my hands with reverence. That strange item had been bequeathed to Ron in Dumbledore's will, an item that had magical properties to turn on and off lights. And, as he later discovered, the power to guide him home, to bring him back to me.

"He…he's really gone, hasn't he?" I looked up at Harry, the concept only just dawning on me that he wasn't coming back.

He nodded silently. "I think so, yeah." he mumbled.

"I kept telling myself, that as long as he had this," I hugged the deluminator to my chest, "that he'd always find a way to come back to me, just like he came back to us before. I just always assumed he'd have it with him. Deep down, I know that if he was injured, he'd have got help by now. He'd have apparated home or managed to let someone know…sent a patronus or something. But, he hasn't…and maybe…" I sniffed at my running nose and dashed my forearm across my face, swiping tears away. "Maybe I have to accept…that…he….he's really… gone. Oh Harry!" I sobbed and clung to my surviving best friend, trying to gain comfort from one another.

I hadn't a clue how I was supposed to live through this. How did you wake up each morning and go on when the bottom fell out of your world? How did you remember to breathe?

How was I supposed to carry on without him by my side? I'd already lived and survived through some pretty horrific things that someone of my age should never even have to witness, but I wasn't sure I'd survive this. He'd always been there, right by my side. We'd barely been apart in the last 17 years – that was more than half of my lifetime and I didn't know how to live without him. And how the hell was I supposed to tell my children that their daddy was never coming home? I'd have gladly lived through the war again than have to break my kids' hearts.

And yet, I couldn't lie to them, especially not when Rose started crying for her daddy at bedtime and constantly asking me when he was coming home. She was almost three, she knew something was wrong and I had to tell her. Hugo was too young, he didn't understand – although he could pick up on the sadness and tension in the house and reacted to it as babies did.

"Rose, sweetheart," I stepped outside of my bedroom for the first time in days after hearing the commotion as my mum was trying to convince her it was bedtime. She was stubbornly refusing to get into bed until daddy read her a story, standing with her arms folded and ignoring her nana defiantly.

"I want daddy, mummy!" she demanded of me, running to me and clinging onto my legs.

"I know darling, I know," I picked her up and held her tight, burying my face in her hair. "Come with mummy," I made my way back to our room with her.

"Hermione," Mum tried to stop me.

I shook my head. "It's okay…I, I have to tell her."

Mum offered me a pained smile and squeezed my shoulder, letting me know she was here if I needed her. In our room, my room now I realised sadly, I set Rose on the bed and climbed in beside her.

"Rose, my sweet girl. Mummy has to tell you something," I began seriously, brushing her hair back from her face and encouraging her to look up at me.

"I want daddy!" she repeated.

"I know my sweet girl. I want him too." Already tears were rolling down my face again. "But…daddy was hurt…fighting the bad men. He was so brave, but…they, they hurt him too. They hurt him bad. And…well, daddy can't come home now baby. He's not going to be coming home," I choked on my own words. The more I had to say it out loud, the more it hurt, the more it hit home that it was true.

"Ever?" She looked up at me, her eyes wide and fearful.

"Not ever," I shook my head. "Daddy…he's in heaven now, with Uncle Fred and Teddy's mummy and daddy." She started to cry and it broke my heart as the dam opened and my tears fell thick and fast. "But, I want you to know that daddy will always, always love you sweetheart," I spoke thickly through my own tears, my voice cracking on sobs. "You're his little princess and you'll always be special to him," I rubbed her back as she buried her face in the pillow and cried softly. I wasn't sure she understood everything, she wasn't quite three yet after all, but she understood enough that daddy wasn't coming home. "And, we'll always love him too and never, ever forget him," I picked her up and pulled her into my lap. She flung her little arms tight around my neck and held on tight, her breath coming in little sobs against me.

"I want my daddy," she cried.

"Oh darling," I couldn't help it, I broke down and couldn't speak anymore. For quite some time we just held one another and cried. "Daddy will always be with you," I pulled her back and tilted her tear stained face up towards me. "He'll always be in here, in your heart," I placed my hand on her chest. "And…he'll be in our minds forever. I promise we'll never forget him and you can talk about him with me and everyone who loves him."

She nodded sadly and clung on again. "I'm sad mummy," she whispered.

"I know darling. Mummy is very sad too. But, that's because we love him very, very much and we'll always miss him." I kissed the top of her head and held her tight, wishing I could protect her from this pain – no three year old should have to go through this. "I'm going to need you to be a really big girl for mummy. Hugo doesn't understand, he's too young, and I'll need you to tell him all about his daddy. How wonderful and kind and funny and brave he was, and how very much he loved you both. Can you do that?" I whispered to her, holding tight to my little girl. She nodded against me. That's my sweet girl," I kissed her head again and lay us both down on the bed, still cuddled together.

Eventually we cried ourselves to sleep that night and she was never quite the same little girl again, never quite as innocent. She had a look far too wise for someone of her age. Shortly after that night, the nightmares began, the screaming in the middle of the night and needing comfort, reassurance that I, at least, was still here for her. Sometimes she pushed me away, wanting only her daddy. It was understandable after what she'd been through, normal even. But, it was a rough time for us all – especially when Hugo became unsettled and stopped sleeping through the night again. In the end, against better judgement, I allowed them to sleep in bed with me – the damn bed was too big to sleep in alone anyway. And slowly, over some weeks and months, the nightmares became less frequent and Hugo began sleeping well again.

Even now, whenever Rose gets really upset and scared or throws a tantrum, she still demands for her daddy – as though he should come to her when she really needs him. She's upset and disappointed each time that he doesn't. But, just lately, I have heard her talking about him with Hugo a lot, showing him photos and telling him that's our daddy, that he was brave and he loved us. Every time it almost kills me to realise Hugo will never really remember him. His father will always just be a person in a photograph to him.

Sometime after his disappearance, I could never call it his death. A tiny part of me still wouldn't admit it and still had this insane hope he'd come back to us. But, shortly after, there was a memorial service for him. I think his parents arranged it, I don't remember a moment of it, although I sat there the entire time. I think it helped Molly, it brought her some comfort and she needed some kind of closure, a chance to say goodbye. Poor Molly, she'd lost two sons now through the evils in our world, no mother should have to go through that. No mother should have to bury two of her own children in her lifetime. She was utterly devastated, as you'd expect – her baby boy, gone.

It hit the rest of the family hard too. I don't think anyone could believe that life could be as cruel as to take another family member from us after all we'd lived through already. Ginny, who'd always been closest to Ron, felt his loss immensely. They'd grown up together, being so close in age, they spent the most time together. And though they also teased and fought mercilessly, she loved him. It was a difficult time for her, with a tiny new baby to deal with, as well as two toddlers and I don't think she coped very well. Harry was having a hard time of it himself and found it difficult to support his wife as much as he wanted, whilst dealing with his own grief. And George took it particularly hard. Losing another brother stirred up the still very raw pain of losing his twin in the war. It set him back a few years in his healing and his nightmares returned, Angelina confided in me once.

And yet it was George who offered me the best advice, the only advice I ever followed.

"Hermione…walk with me," George requested, pulling me away from the crowd after the service. We walked along in silence for some time, both deep in our own thoughts. I hadn't realised where we were heading until we stopped, beside the little plot of land far off within the property boundary of The Burrow where his twin, Fred, was laid to rest. "I just...I wanted to say, if you need to talk, or…vent, or well, anything. I reckon I understand better than most, and, well, you can always talk to me," he offered, touching my arm gently, a little embarrassed. "You know, if you want." He shrugged one shoulder.

I nodded. "Thanks," I whispered through my tears.

"I know you feel like part of yourself has been ripped away, like you'll never be whole again." He commented.

"Yes," I whispered. That was exactly how I felt. There was a huge gaping hole in my life now and I knew nothing could ever fill it, no matter how long I lived.

"Everyone will try to give you advice, the sage of their wisdom. And I know their hearts in the right place. But…you have to listen to yourself, do things in your own time. There's no timetable and no right or wrong way to grieve. So, just do what _you_ want to and need to do. Don't listen too much to what everyone is saying you should be doing or feeling or what's healthy or not. I know people try to help, but sometimes it just feels like they're interfering and making things worse. Though, I don't think there can be any right words to say to someone grieving," he sighed wistfully and gazed off into the evening sky. "Anyway…I just wanted you to know that I understand and if you need to talk, or yell…or even punch something. I'm available." He smirked.

"Thank you," I smiled up at him weakly.

"You just do whatever you need to make any of this at all bearable…that's what you need to do right now. Though I can tell you from experience, drinking four bottles of firewhisky in 24 hours really doesn't help anything," he grimaced.

"I'll keep that in mind," I nodded.

"You know, Fred and I were horrid to him when we were kids. But, I loved my little brother," he sniffed. "I suspect they're together up there now, plotting to get me back," he laughed once and then gazed at his brother's grave pensively.

"Thank you George," I whispered after some time and then I turned and gave him a brief hug. I reckon George was wrong…there was something right someone could say at a time like this, and he'd just said it. He gave me the only piece of advice I ever followed through on, to do what I wanted and what I needed.

For a long time I barely functioned as a human being. I went through routine tasks without really knowing what I was doing. I ate food, but didn't taste anything. I'd spend time with the children, but didn't really notice them. And I'd lay awake night after night, unable to sleep and sobbing into his pillow instead. In all my grief and depression, I'd replay that last morning together over and over with regret. Wishing things had been different.

On that last morning, we barely had time to talk as we each rushed about, both late. He had to head off on this mission and, as usual, he was still packing his bag at the last minute, darting here and there to find things. I had an interview at The Ministry for my new job, returning to work after the birth of Hugo. I had decided to change career paths and I was worried how it was going to go. I was running late and I still had to drop the kids off with Molly. And so it was that I left, without ever telling him that I loved him, without a kiss or a hug goodbye, just a harassed wave as I flooed to his parents with the kids. And now I was going to regret that for the rest of my life. I was never going to get another chance to tell him I loved him or hold him in my arms. Why had I not just taken a few seconds to kiss him goodbye, to let him know how much he meant to me? What would a few more seconds have hurt anything? Now, at least, I knew some things were more important.

The Weasley family were a constant source of support in those difficult months following. I'd always felt included by them, even before I married Ron, but…this was more than that – I was a Weasley, no questions asked. They couldn't do enough to help me or include me, and they all fought over spending time with my children and doing things for them. I think they felt a connection to Ron through them, and they became quite spoilt by all their aunts and uncles, all offering to take them out and make them smile. My own parents were wonderful too, I couldn't have coped without my Mum's help in those first few months. But, it was in the bosom of the Weasley family where I wanted to be most. My parents hadn't loved nor known Ron the way they had and I felt comforted being with them.

It was a few months before I surfaced enough to function on any kind of level. Rose's third birthday had passed – I think my Mum had arranged something, but I didn't remember it and Christmas was rather a blur that year. Every second of every day hurt without him, but I knew I had to go on alone, somehow. That I had to continue with my life no matter how hard it was going to be. Because to just curl into a ball and give up, well it was disrespectful to his memory, it made a mockery of his life and I had to go on living, if not for myself, then for our children and for him. My children, _our_ children, were my saving grace. They became my entire life, my link to Ron and the love we shared. I got out of bed each morning and put one foot in front of the other for them. I had to live for them.

In the new year, out of necessity, I returned to work. Although we received some financial support from the Ministry with the Aurors widow programme, I still had a mortgage to pay, food to buy and two children to raise – I simply had to work for the money. Except I knew my children needed me now more than ever. Rose became terrified of me leaving her for any amount of time – as though she was afraid I wouldn't come home either. And Hugo, reacting to his sisters fears, cried more than he used to and became a clingy baby. So, I compromised and I only worked part time now.

Although, for the first time, I hated being at work, at least at first. I avoided venturing into the Wizarding World at all if I could help it. For almost a year I barely left home, but to go to work. Everywhere I went I saw people staring at me, and this time it wasn't because I was a war hero and had been part of the trio who helped to bring Voldemort to his demise. This time it was pity stares and I often caught snatches of whispered conversations, "her husband recently died on her," "Wasn't he an Auror?" "Only been married five years." "They had two little children as well." "Poor love, I don't know how she copes." On and on it went, and I couldn't stand it. I wanted to snap at them all to shut up and mind their own business. But I just walked on by as quickly as possible, with my head down. But far worse than that was all the well meaning, sympathetic comments. People stopping me to tell me how sorry they were for my loss. I wanted to yell at them that they never even knew him. But, I stopped myself.

Instead, for the last 22 months, almost two years since he'd been…gone, I simply spent my time at work or filled my hours with my children to avoid meeting people and those encounters as much as possible. Though when I was forced to venture out into our world or I needed supplies in Diagon Alley, I did it as efficiently and quickly as possible before returning home and locking myself away from the world.

This morning, after I'd dropped the children off still in their pyjamas, with Molly and Arthur for the weekend, I couldn't concentrate at work. The Minister had asked me a question three times before I heard him and answered. He'd merely given me a brief sympathetic smile full of sorrow before leaving me alone in the library of the Ministers chamber to attend a meeting.

This weekend would have been our seventh wedding anniversary and that was all I could think about. I should have been excited, wondering what he had in store for me, whether he'd like his gift and hoping he'd even remember whilst planning to send the kids off somewhere so we'd have a few hours alone. Instead, I was dreading it. I knew it was going to be a difficult weekend full of pain and heart ache. That empty hole that had been punched through my chest when he'd first gone had barely began to heal, the wound was still raw and bleeding, this weekend was going to be like someone poking the rawness constantly. I missed him now, just as much as I had then, almost two years ago, how was it already two years?

I missed everything about our life together. Apparently, seemingly annoying little traits became endearing qualities when there was no one to argue with about them anymore. I missed the socks he'd leave lying on the bedroom floor, no matter how many times I asked him to pick them up. The damp towel he'd always, always toss onto the bed after a bath or a shower. And the dirty clothes that never quite made it to the laundry basket – just dumped on the bathroom floor. Or the way he'd never clean the bathroom after himself.

The house always seemed too quiet without him. I missed his loud, jovial laughter. The way he always giggled to himself over cartoons in the newspaper. His stupid, crude jokes and rather rude references about things that usually did nothing but embarrass me. I missed listening to him read bedtime stories to the children, with the inventive, and, often adorable, voices he used and how it made them both giggle with him. Somehow I never got it right and Rose told me as much. To my amazement, I realised I missed his fondness for swearing too much, a trait that was just so typically Ron. Although his foul language had gotten a little better after we had children – especially when one of Rose's first words had been 'shit'! He'd felt suitably ashamed for that. I even found that I missed his grumpiness when he woke in the morning and his damn snoring beside me at night.

And then there was how I never found him more attractive than when he was playing with our children. Be it having tea parties with Rosie that he would readily sit through, or running around with Hugo in the air, flying him on make believe brooms to catch the snitch. Even if their games often became rather boisterous and raucous and he got them all hyped up before bedtime. They missed that probably more than I did…unfortunately, mummy didn't play properly.

I missed his love of pudding and his sweet tooth – something his children had inherited. The way he almost went into mourning when The Cannons lost at Quidditch – again! And his constant grumbling about the damn team that made it hard for me to understand why he still bothered to support them. I missed how he'd willingly help out with household chores and cook dinner for us – though perhaps not quite so much the mess he left behind in the kitchen. That infuriating way he still had of leaving everything to the last minute and then panicking about it – be it a report he needed for work, packing his bag or flooing somewhere.

I especially missed our private moments, our times together. Sweet and innocent hours of curling up on the sofa in front of the fire after a day at work and the children were asleep. Sharing a bed with him and fighting over the duvet. The way we bickered about totally inane things that really didn't matter and would lead into arguments more than they should because we were both so stubborn and neither would back down. But then I missed the making up even more. I missed making love with him terribly. He was the first and only man I had ever slept with, ever really seen naked and whom had ever seen me naked. And, I suspected he always would be – I could never imagine being with anyone else, ever again.

But mostly, I just missed _him_. Missed his presence in my life – the knowledge that he was there for me, that he'd got my back no matter what. I felt loved and safe with him. Now I just felt so terribly empty and alone.

"Hermione?"

"Huh?" I jumped at the sound of the voice. "Oh, Mr Shacklebolt. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

"I've been here for five minutes trying to get your attention." he smiled kindly.

"I'm sorry," I muttered and looked down at the role of parchment in front of me – it was covered in nonsense doodles I hadn't even been aware I'd been drawing. I hadn't done anything all morning.

"Listen, why don't you go home?" he suggested. "It's obvious you're distracted and…well, I do know what weekend it is. I understand." he added, his deep voice sincere.

I shook my head and pulled the book towards me. "I'm fine, really."

"Go on. Go home," he insisted. "I know it's hard for you."

"Well, okay," I gave in quietly and bit my lip to prevent any tears as I began to put my things back into my bag. "But, I'll take this book home with me, and get some reading done there." I added the book to my bag, before getting up.

"That's fine. I'll see you on Tuesday morning. And…" He paused and hugged me as I headed for the door. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

I merely nodded, my throat too thick to speak, as I left his chambers and headed home, quickly before the tears let loose.

"Morning Hermione," Harry wandered into my office late on Tuesday morning. Wanting to be alone after a difficult weekend, I'd chosen to take books back to the privacy of my own office, rather than sit in the library of the Ministers chambers this morning.

"Hey Harry," I smiled as I briefly glanced up from the book I was studying, then I did a double take and snapped my head up again. "Are the kids okay?" I asked, abruptly.

"What? Yeah…they're fine. I mean, I assume they are, not heard anything from Ginny anyway."

"Oh, good," I breathed and returned to the book. I had dropped the kids off with Ginny this morning whilst I was at work, as per our normal routine. Ginny worked mostly from home these days, writing a Quidditch column for the Daily Prophet, apart from when she was actually attending the matches to write about. So, she'd offered to look after my two one day a week when I went back to work. And now we had a routine perfected – the children stayed with Ginny Tuesday morning. They spent all day Wednesday with Molly. My Mum came to my house on Thursday afternoon to watch them, and they were back with Molly on Friday morning.

I spent a couple of minutes copying down more laws that I thought needed looking at to either change or eradicate before I realised Harry was still sat in my office. "Did you actually want something Harry?" I looked up at him, pausing with my quill, twiddling it between my fingers. Sometimes he just wandered over to say hello of grab a cup of tea together.

"Erm, yeah," he mumbled and shuffled his feet. "Can you take a break?" he wondered.

I sighed and shook my head. "I wanted to get these finished and given to Kingsley today. I was hoping to get them done over the weekend, but I erm…didn't." I muttered the last line quietly. Truth was I had spent most of the weekend hiding out in bed, either sleeping to block the painful memories or eating comfort food and making a pig of myself.

"It is kind of, important," he persisted.

"So is this," I nodded down to the roll of parchment full of ridiculous laws. "Do you realise there are still some Muggle-borns paying for ridiculous crimes they shouldn't? It's been years since the war ended, and these things need sorting out."

"I know, but…"

"Merlin's pants!" I suddenly gasped, my finger poised on one particular law. "That's…that's barbaric!" I hissed. "Sorry Harry, I need to take this one to Kingsley straight away." I grabbed the book and darted out of my seat. "I'll have to talk to you later."

"Hermione…" he stopped me before I ran out of the room. "It's about Ron. He's…he's been found!"

"Ron?" I asked, dropping the book and falling back into my seat with a thump.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you SO much for all your amazing reviews - really appreciate you taking the time to leave comments :) And I'm glad you seem to like it. I shall confess that writing that last chapter actually made me cry...I drew on my own experiences with grief and it wasn't easy. **_

_**But, hopefully things are going to be quite as depressing now...there's still a difficult time ahead though.**_

_**Here, I give you chapter three. Usual disclaimers apply - I am not JK Rowling, just borrowing her amazing world for a little while :)**_

**Chapter Three**

"What," I swallowed. "What do you mean?" I asked, starring at him in shock. My heart felt as though it was going to burst out of my chest. "Have…have they found his…his…"

"No," Harry quickly shook his head before I finished that thought. "I mean, he's alive."

"What?" I yelped the word and shot up in my seat, knocking a whole bottle of ink over, not that I noticed. "No…I mean…how can he? Who saw…what?" I just looked at Harry, dumbfounded, not really understanding what he meant. This was impossible, wasn't it?

"I'll explain," he began and quickly got up to fetch me a glass of water and flick his wand towards the door to lock it so we wouldn't be interrupted.

"I don't…I don't understand?" I looked up at him pleadingly as he handed me the water, telling me to take a few sips. He seemed worried that I might pass out or something. "Please," I set down the glass, "tell me what the hell you're talking about?"

Harry sat down again, removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Kevin, from the Magical Creatures department, you remember Kevin, right? Works in the Pest sub-division?" I just glared at him to continue. "Yes, right. Well, he came to see me about an hour ago. Apparently they had some trouble, a couple of Muggle houses on the Lincolnshire coast got a pretty bad doxy infestation. He's just spent the entire weekend there clearing the houses and then overseeing damage control with the Muggles who lived there. Anyway," he shook his head, when he saw I was getting impatient with this explanation. "Whilst he was there, he says that he swears he saw Ron. Walking around, large as life and seemingly living in this village."

"He's…okay?" I asked, eagerly.

"Well, yeah, if this really is him. Kevin reckons he spoke to him a few times and Ron just looked right through him, didn't show any recognition, even though they worked together on a case of abuse against Hippogriffs a few years ago. And that he didn't respond to his name at all. He stood yelling him across the street for ages, he said. Yet, Kev says he'd swear on his mother's life it was Ron."

"Do you think he's telling you the truth?" I asked Harry, trying to keep the pounding of my heart under control. I drank some more water.

He shrugged. "He's got no reason to come and tell me some story for no reason. I believe he believes what he saw. Whether he really saw Ron though…I don't know," he shook his head.

"Did he tell you where this village was? How to get there I mean?" I asked, beginning to pack my books up.

"Yeah. Should be easy enough to find," he nodded. "Wait…you want to go there?" He realised.

"Yes," I replied, looking up at him briefly as though that was the stupidest question in history. I went to grab my bag and cloak from the hook by the door and then just looked at Harry who still hadn't moved from his seat.

"You want to go now?" he realised. "But…Hermione. What if it isn't him? I don't want to drag you out there and get your hopes up for nothing." He spoke gently to me.

"I don't care," I shook my head. "Don't you see Harry. I have to go. I have to go and see for myself. Because if I don't, I'm just going to sit and wonder and…I need to know. I _have_ to know. Didn't I always say that I felt if he was truly gone, I would know. That I'd feel it, inside?" I reminded him.

"Well, yeah, but," he shrugged again. Obviously he, along with almost everyone else, had just thought that was the nonsense babble of a grieving widow.

"And I never really did feel it. Please Harry. Just take me there. I have to see, for myself. And if it's not him, then, I...I'll deal with it."

"And if it is, I'll kick his ass for putting you through all this," he muttered. "Fine. But…just calm down a few minutes. I need to go let my staff know I'm going to be away from the department. And you should clear it with Kingsley and then there's Rose and Hugo to deal with as well." He reminded me.

"Yes, of course." I felt guilty for not thinking of them, for wanting to rush off blindly in some crazy crusade to find my assumed dead husband.

"Just give me ten minutes, okay? And we'll meet at my house and decide where to go from there. I should let Ginny know as well," he added, whilst leaving my office and heading off to deal with things. 

* * *

"Harry, what the hell is Hermione on about?" Ginny whispered furiously to him and dragged him through the doorway the moment he opened the door to the kitchen at his house. I'd got there before him and after they'd all got over the surprise of my being back early from work, I'd pulled Ginny into the kitchen and told her the earth shattering news.

Harry sighed. "Nice to see you too Gin," he rolled his eyes at his wife before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"She's babbling on about Ron being alive and going to find him or something. What is she talking about?"

Harry glared at me across the table. "Cup of tea would be nice, darling?" he smiled up at her, taking a seat at the table.

"Sod the damn tea!" She waved her hand in the air. "Tell me what she's talking about." She demanded, slamming the same hand down on the table.

Harry sighed again. "Before anyone rushes into anything, this might be a false alarm."

"What might be? Harry, I swear to Merlin if you don't explain right now…" Ginny warned him, fading off on what her threat would be.

He took his glasses off, laying them on the kitchen table for a moment as he rubbed his face and began to tell her everything that he'd already told me. Whilst he explained to Ginny, I made a pot of tea and brought it to the table, along with three cups just as he finished his story.

Ginny was quiet when he finished, letting everything sink in as she silently poured herself a mug of tea, added sugar and milk and stirred her cup. "Why?" She then simply asked.

"What?" Harry put his own mug down, confused by his wife's question.

"Why has he been living in this Muggle town? I don't understand, why didn't he just come home?" She looked at both of us in turn.

My head shot up at her words with a jolt, almost knocking over my cup of tea I'd just poured and spilt the milk onto the table rather than pouring it into my mug. I jumped when it trickled from the table onto my lap and I realised what I'd done with a gasp. They both turned to look at me in concern as I righted it and cleared up the mess I'd made, using my wand.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, taking my hand.

I just shook my head, I couldn't voice the thoughts going through my mind yet. I'd been so excited and beyond hopeful when Harry had first told me he'd been found that I hadn't even considered the whys and how's. But now…it didn't make sense. Ginny was right, why was he living in some Muggle town just a few hours away, seemingly fine? Why hadn't he come home to his family? Was it possible he'd done this on purpose? That he'd ran away and started a new life without us? Did he really think that little of his family? Had life really been that bad for him that he felt he had no way out?

I tried to think back to the couple of weeks before he'd disappeared, recall any signs that he'd been unhappy. Sure, we'd argued a few times – but nothing major. Hugo had been teething and Rose had been having bad dreams, so neither of us were getting much sleep when we were up half the night with them or trying to share a bed with both children. But…things hadn't been that bad, had they? Suddenly, I was angry with him. For the first time since he'd been gone, I almost hated him. How dare he put us through this! These last two years of pain and suffering just because he was missing out on a few hours of sleep? The stupid, selfish cockroach!

"…don't even know if it's really him," I suddenly realised Harry was talking again. "I mean, Kev' did say he seemed a bit, well, weird. That he wasn't himself."

"Yeah, probably embarrassed he got caught," I muttered, tersely.

"What did you say?" Ginny asked me.

"Oh come on. Why else would he be hiding out in some small Muggle town in the middle of nowhere? He left us, and now he's pissed off that someone from his past has caught up with him. The stupid git obviously tried to make out he didn't know him to shake him off."

"Hermione…you don't mean that?" Ginny looked appalled. She knew how utterly distraught I'd been without him and couldn't seem to believe I was suddenly calling him names or talking about him with such contempt.

"Don't I? He left us Ginny, let me think he was dead. He left his two kids. What kind of bloody swine does that?"

"Hermione…it might not be him." Harry again pointed out, looking to his wife for support. I knew he didn't want to think the worst of his best friend.

"Yeah," Ginny voiced. "I mean…this Kevin bloke, he may have worked with Ron once, briefly, but he doesn't really know him, does he? He probably got confused or something, he had been working all weekend, none stop, clearing that infestation."

I picked up my mug and shrugged nonchalantly, listening to her try to dissuade me. And now I didn't know what was worse. To think that he had really left us, but he was alive. Or that it wasn't really him and my husband was indeed dead. Ten minutes ago I'd been all set to run off after him, not caring how or why, I just wanted to hold him in my arms again. Now, I didn't know what to think and unexpectedly, my eyes filled with tears and my hands shook, spilling tea onto the table again.

"Oh, Hermione," Ginny spoke softly and taking the mug from my hands, she pulled me towards her, hugging me.

"I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have told you at all," Harry apologised, taking my hand across the table.

I wiped my eyes and gave them both a watery smile, feeling not for the first time so grateful for the pair of them. Over the last few months they'd always been there for me and I knew I couldn't ask for better friends. "It's okay," I sniffed. "You had to tell me."

"James, not right now sweetheart," I heard Ginny say quietly. I looked up to see their almost six year old son peering through the kitchen door. He looked a little worried, but hardly surprised to see the adults sat solemnly around the table. I realised, sadly, that this scene had probably become a frequent occurrence for him.

"But mummy…" he began to protest.

"James," Harry warned him lightly not to argue with his Mum.

"I'll bring you all some pumpkin juice and a biscuit shortly. Just give us a few minutes, okay sweetie?"

"But it's Hugo. He, he found your wand…and," he grimaced, not wanting to have to tell us. "He's got…bugs crawling out of his nose." He screwed his face up in disgust.

"He did what?" Ginny sounded horrified.

"Oh, no. That son of mine," I sighed and shook my head. "Can't leave him alone for five minutes," I rolled my eyes and made to get up.

"No, I'll go sort him out. It's okay." Ginny insisted.

"Thanks." I smiled at her. "If he's upset though…"

"I'll bring him through," she added, following James back to the front room.

"Just like his dad," I commented with a wry shake of my head.

"Remember the slugs?" Harry asked me, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile.

I nodded. "Hard not to remember those."

"I'm sorry Hermione. I've just upset you all over again, haven't I?"

I shook my head. "It's always there Harry. Sometimes I just hide it better."

He gave me another sympathetic smile and squeezed my hand again. "Hermione…I don't think Ron would really do that to you." he began hesitantly, as though he was afraid of making me cry again. "And I don't think you really believe that either. He adored you, and the kids, you know he did. He was so in love and I haven't seen him happier than when you were all together."

"But why else would he have stayed away for almost two years? I don't understand," I shook my head.

"I guess…I don't believe it's him. I'm sorry Hermione, but I just don't." He added when he saw my pained look. "I want to believe it…I mean, not that he left you, but that he's alive. I really do…I want my best friend back. And I want it to be real for you. But, I can't see it. Maybe I just haven't known enough happy endings." He wondered more to himself, than to me.

I nodded, knowing where he was coming from. "We still have to go and see though. Just in case." I mumbled quietly, clearing up the mess I had made on the table and pouring myself a fresh cup.

"Do you think that's wise?" he asked. "You've already been through so much, and…I don't want to see you hurt again."

"I have to Harry. I have to just see. If it's not him, I'll deal with it. If it is and he left us, he'll find himself hexed to next year," I threatened. "But, I just, I have to know." I shrugged one shoulder.

"Hermione's right," Ginny returned, obviously having caught the tail end of our conversation.

"Was Hugo okay?" I asked her.

She laughed. "A little stunned I think, but he thought the bugs were great fun! He was playing with a worm when I went through."

I rolled my eyes. "What am I going to do with him? Did you tell him off?"

"I told him not to touch things that don't belong to him and that you'd be along to have a word with him."

I nodded, satisfied with that for now.

"Ginny, do you really think she should run off there in hopes it's him?" Harry returned to the subject at hand.

"Yes," she nodded as she sat back down. "Because I know if it was you Harry, I'd want to know. I'd need to check."

He looked at his wife in surprise, obviously he'd assumed she would support his view.

I smiled gratefully at her. "So, we're going?" I asked, hopeful. Even though I was slightly terrified of what we may find there.

"I'll watch the kids, don't worry." Ginny immediately offered and Harry glanced at her.

"Fine," he gave in, removing his glasses again to clean them on his jumper. "We're going."

"Thank you," I patted his hand. "I don't know how long this will take," I turned to Ginny. "I mean, I could be away a couple of days."

"Whatever it takes. Mum can help out with the kids if I need it. Just…go, and if it's him, bring my brother home. So I can wring his skinny neck," she laughed once before hugging me.

With that decided, I disapparated home to pack some things for the children to stay with Ginny, and a bag for myself to take away. I didn't know how big this village was, it could take us a few days to track him down, especially if he heard we were in town and hid from us. Before closing up my bag, I glanced at the photos on my bedside – one from our wedding day – the happiest day of my life. And another, the last photo we'd had taken together as the four of us. Almost as an afterthought, I grabbed the both of them and placed them in my bag, before closing it up.

Almost an hour later, after a tearful goodbye with my children. Harry and I both disapparated away. Rosie hadn't wanted me to go at all. Obviously I couldn't tell her where we were going or why – it wasn't fair to get their hopes up after all. But she'd only just accepted me leaving her to go to work for a full day without tears. Telling her I'd be gone for at least a couple of days had been a bad idea. I felt so guilty leaving them both and for leaving Ginny to cope with them. Hopefully this would all be over with quickly and we could put it behind us. 

* * *

We apparated into an empty field, surrounded by trees. I could smell the brine of the ocean not far away and hear the seagulls screeching overhead. Between the trees I could see evidence of this village – there wasn't all that much to it with about 40 various buildings and that was about it. A few more houses lay scattered on the outskirts, but it appeared very small and secluded – right in the middle of nowhere.

"Ready?" Harry asked me, pulling his rucksack onto his back.

"Ready," I nodded, hanging the little shoulder bag I'd cast an undetectable extension charm on, over my arm and following him. We tramped across the field, scrambled through the trees and came out on a quiet country village square that consisted simply of a notice board littered with local announcements and a bus timetable, a phone box and a bench, that seemed to double as a bus stop. Well, I looked around at the sparseness of the place, it shouldn't take us long at all to find him, if he's here, I thought to myself.

"So, now what?" Harry looked to me, expecting me to have a plan the way I used to meticulously plan everything when we were in school.

"I don't know," I sighed, looking around for a sign of life anywhere. So much for our plan to ask around, the place seemed almost deserted. "Did Kevin say where he spoke to him?" I wondered, figuring that was a good enough place to start.

"The pub," Harry shrugged. "But, I doubt it's open yet." He looked down at his watch as I did the same. It was 3.30 in the afternoon now – too late for the lunch crowd and still a few hours off for the evening patrons.

Just then we both spotted an elderly gentleman leaving a tiny corner shop with his daily newspaper and shuffle off back up the street. "Do you have any Muggle money?" Harry asked, quietly.

"Erm," I rummaged around in my bag, before I came up successfully. "I've only got £10," I handed it to him.

"Come on, we'll go ask in the shop." He decided, already headed towards it, I followed behind slowly. Now that we were here I was almost scared of what we were going to find.

In the shop, Harry picked up a couple of bottles of pop, some crisps and a packet of biscuits. Smiling, he set them down on the counter and waited for the young girl to ring them up.

"Hello," she smiled, politely, though looked utterly bored in her work. I suppose when you stood here all day and your only customers were a few little old men buying their newspaper, I'd be bored too. "Haven't seen you around here before. Passing through?" she wondered, trying to make conversation. "I expect you're heading up to Skegness or something."

"Actually, we're looking for someone." I jumped on the chance she'd left open.

"Yeah, someone told us a friend of ours lived around here." Harry jumped in. "Don't suppose you know him? His name's Ron. Tall guy, ginger hair, kinda skinny?"

"Oh," she nodded and blushed. "You mean Roland. Yeah, he lives out at the farm with the old Bridges couple, think he helps them out with odd jobs. Not seen him in the village for a couple of days though," she sighed. "That's £4.38," she added, having rang up the items and held her hand out for the money.

Harry paid her, thanked her for the information and took our shopping.

"If I see him I'll let him know you're looking for him," she called as we walked out of the shop.

"Well," Harry muttered, heading back to the square to take perch on the bench. "At least we know there's someone who matches his description around here." He handed me a bottle of cola as we sat down.

I sighed, fiddling with the lid of my drink. "Yeah, someone called Roland though."

Harry shrugged, not knowing what to say. "You are sure you want to go through with this? I don't want you to get hurt anymore, Hermione," he added, considerately.

"Thanks Harry, I know you care and you're looking out for me. But…I have to find out. I have to know."

"Okay, just checking." He took a gulp from his bottle and then opened a packet of crisps. "I guess we just wait for the pub to open then?" he asked, to which I agreed. Besides the old man, and a cat wandering across the street, we hadn't seen anyone else about – we didn't have much other choice but to sit here and wait. There was nowhere else in the village to go.

Screwing up my empty packet of crisps, I took a biscuit Harry offered me. I hadn't realised how hungry I'd been until we started eating – we'd missed lunch in all the excitement.

"At least we should be able to get something decent to eat when the pub opens." Harry mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate digestive.

"Hello," a car stopped beside us and wound the window down. "If you're waiting for a bus, I'm afraid the last one left about an hour ago." The helpful stranger leaned across the passenger seat to tell us.

"That's okay, just sitting and enjoying the weather," I smiled. I then noticed him look towards the sky, I followed his gaze and saw the big rain cloud looming. "Oh, erm…" I coughed.

"We're actually waiting for a friend," Harry spoke up, having swallowed the biscuit. "Tall guy, ginger hair, kind of skinny."

The man nodded "That would be Roland. Helps out old Mr Bridges at the farm up yonder." He nodded in some vague direction.

"Do you know if he comes into the village much?"

"He sometimes goes to the pub with the old man. Might be in tonight if you're lucky."

"Great thanks. I…don't suppose there's anywhere to stay in town, is there?" Harry wondered.

"There's a caravan site a few miles that way," he pointed down the road.

"Nowhere in the village?"

"Well, sometimes Mrs Wilson takes in bed and breakfast guests. You could try there. Last house on the street – red door, you can't miss it. I'd best be off."

"Right, well, thank you very much for your help sir."

"You're welcome. Hope you track down Roland. Seems a kind of troubled fella." And with that, he continued on his way.

Harry and I looked at one another, before he started to laugh. "Enjoying the weather," he shook his head.

"Well…it was the first thing I thought of. We must look rather strange to the locals sat at some old bus stop long after the last bus has gone."

"What do you reckon about this bed and breakfast? Shall we check it out? I mean," he looked around, "there's a few farms up yonder," he laughed at the word. "We can't very well go knocking on every door. I suppose we have to wait for him to come into town. And we don't know when that will be."

"I should have just brought the tent," I mumbled.

"That might look even more weird than us sitting here. Come on, we'll go see about this B&amp;B, because that rain cloud is getting closer and I don't fancy getting wet." He stood and put our empty food packets in the bin, before heading up the road.

Mrs Wilson was a plump, stern looking old lady with glasses so large they covered half of her face. A head full of grey curls bobbed when she spoke. "You married?" she asked, standing on the doorstep with her arms folded under an ample bosom, leaving us outside with the threat of rain imminent. "I don't let no couples stay 'less they married."

"Oh, yes. Course we are." Harry grabbed my hand and offered her a huge grin.

"Humph," she grunted. "Rates £30 a night. Breakfast at 7.30 sharp. And the door is locked at 9pm." She added gruffly.

"Right. Sounds perfect," I smiled at her, hoping to appease her a little.

"This way," she turned and headed up the stairs.

Harry and I followed, arguing in hushed whispers. "I don't have any more Muggle money on me."

"Don't worry, I'll disapparate to Diagon Alley and go to Gringotts once we're in the room." He whispered back.

"I just hope she doesn't want cash up front." I whispered back as she stopped and opened the door.

"This is the room. Bathroom across there," she pointed, handed us a key and left us to it.

My heart dropped as I stepped inside. Well, it was hardly The Ritz…it wasn't even the Leaky Cauldron. There was one sorry looking double bed, a rickety looking old chair by a rather dirty window and the ghastly flowered wallpaper, that had probably been up since the 1950's was pealing from the walls. In the corner there was a grubby looking sink with a tap that dripped constantly.

"Lovely," I turned to Harry as he closed the door. He grimaced at the room himself. "What did you tell her we were married for? You know I love you, but not like that…and I think Ginny will kill me if we share a bed." I looked at it, not relishing the idea of sleeping in it at all, let alone with Harry.

"You heard her, she wouldn't let us stay if we weren't. And, I think we need to keep up this pretence of hanging around to find our friend. Don't worry about the bed though, I'll just disapparate home and sleep there and come back in the morning."

"Lucky you," I mumbled, daring to sit down on the bed and squealing as the springs gave way so I was practically sat on the floor.

Harry laughed, helping me up. "And I thought you were supposed to be the brightest witch of her age," he added when I scowled at him. "Best in our year at Transfiguration if I'm not mistaken. I'm sure you can make the room look a bit better, a little comfier." He suggested, raising one eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes at myself and searched in my bag for my wand.

"Right, I'll just nip out to Gringotts then and get us some Muggle money. We should have thought of that before," he commented, before turning on the spot and disapparating away.

I turned to look at the room, trying to decide what to change first. Everything?

* * *

"Do you think he'll come in tonight?" I asked, setting my glass back down on the table and glancing around the near empty, though quaint, country pub.

Harry shrugged, shoving another chip into his mouth. "I hope so, for your sake," he added when he'd swallowed. "Do you want dessert?" He asked, pushing away his now empty plate that had been scampi and chips.

I shook my head, too nervous to eat anything else. I jumped every time the damn door opened and it was still early yet.

"Well, I'm gonna go order some fudge cake." He set the menu back down. "Sure you don't want anything?" He asked as he stood up.

"Just some tea?" I requested.

Whilst Harry was stuffing himself with gooey looking chocolate cake, that I knew Ron would have loved, I noticed an elderly man enter the pub. He walked up to the bar and the man who had stopped by the bus stop earlier went over to speak to him. He pointed in our direction and I quickly looked away. Moments later, the old man approached us.

"'Scuse me," he began. "I'm Mr Bridges, Pete Baggin's just told me you've been asking questions about some bloke who looks like the young man that works for me. Is that right?"

"Erm, yes," I replied, nervously. He was a rather large, gruff looking man.

"We think he might be a friend of ours." Harry added, setting his fork down.

"I see." He took a sip of his beer. "Mind if I sit?" he nodded towards the space beside Harry on the bench.

"No, please," he slid up the bench to make room.

"So," he began after another swig of beer. "What makes you think he could be your friend?"

"Oh, well. He's been missing for a couple of years you see, disappeared during a, erm…altercation with some bad guys. We never knew what happened to him. Then, this past weekend, a work colleague was out this way and said he thought he'd seen him here. As you can understand, we simply had to come and see for ourselves. I mean, we were very close friends."

I sat watching Harry and the old guy talk. He knew something, there was something he was holding back, I just couldn't put my finger on what it was.

"Where you from?" He then asked, gruffly.

"Erm…just outside London." I replied.

"Long way to come just to see if this bloke is your friend." He commented, drinking his beer again.

"Yes, well…"

"Look," he lowered his voice. "You two don't have to pretend with me. I know you're magical folk. Can see it a mile off."

"You're…you're a wizard?" I whispered.

He nodded. "Not been part of the magical world for a long time tho. Me wife's a Muggle-born you see. So when all that trouble with Voldemort started up again, we came here into hiding. Figured they wouldn't bother with some tiny little Muggle village. And it worked, we went through that war unscathed. So, why don't you tell me a bit more about your friend?"

"Okay, yeah…" Harry looked rather shocked to find out this old, extremely normal looking guy, was a wizard. "Well, our friend was an Auror, worked with me at the Ministry. One night, almost two years ago, we were on a mission, a problem with a small band of pure bloods thinking too much of themselves and trying to continue Voldemort's insane ideas. It happens occasionally," he brushed it off with a shrug. "Our friend, Ron, he went missing during the battle that ensued. We searched for him 24/7 for weeks, but…we found nothing. In the end we had to declare him missing, presumed killed."

My breath caught in my throat. Hearing Harry speak of that time again brought it all flooding back – how every day I had lost a little more hope of them finding him safe. Of hearing those dreaded words. Of having to tell our children their daddy was never coming home. It still hurt, just as much today as it did then.

The old man, Mr Bridges, nodded solemnly and drank some more beer. "That sort of ties in with what I can tell you. Though, you might not like what you hear." He added.

"Please…anything you can tell us. I just…we'd really like to find him." I tried not too sound too desperate.

"Fair enough. Well, almost two years, probably about the same time your friend went missing, I got the fright of my life one morning when I went to the barn for some eggs. This bloke was lying there, on a pile of straw, unconscious and obviously badly injured. Looks like he'd fallen through the roof too – a beam had come down and hit his head. Anyway, I took him back to the house. Me wife, Mildred, she has a healer background you see, so she was able to patch him up. Well, as best as she could anyway. Afraid there wasn't much we could do for his memory."

"His memory?" I asked, stunned, holding my tea cup half way to my mouth. "What do you mean?"

He grimaced a little. "When he came to…it was a few days later. He seemed confused and frightened. I tried to explain things, but…well, he didn't know who he was. Somehow the only thing he knew was that he was a wizard, must be some inborn thing, I don't know. But, he knew nothing from his past, couldn't tell us where he came from, his name or anything. I have to say, I was a bit concerned about having him in the house, he could have been dangerous, ya see."

"And now?" I asked hesitantly. "Has…did…does he remember, now?" I bit my bottom lip, afraid of his answer.

He shook his head. "Afraid not. He still can't remember anything from before he woke up in our spare room. Nothing at all…Mildred tried everything she could think of to get his memory back, but…I don't think it's magic that damaged it so I doubt magic can repair it. He says he has dreams sometimes and he wonders if they're glimpses of his past, but as he doesn't know his past, he can't compare them. Anyway, I'm getting on a bit, and the farm is a lot of work. So, since he had nowhere to go, I offered to let him stay with us in return for helping out around the farm. He's been here ever since."

"He knows nothing?" Harry asked, almost as alarmed as me.

"Not a thing. Just that he's a wizard. Oh, and he was wearing a jumper when we found him, had a huge letter 'R' knitted in the front. Figured that must be the first letter of his name, it's why we call him Roland."

I nodded sadly. "His Mum knitted him those jumpers, every Christmas. His name's Ronald, Ron to most people."

Mr Bridges laughed. "We weren't far off then, same letters an' all." He downed his pint of beer. "Certainly does sound like it could be the same bloke."

"It does," I whispered. I felt so incredibly confused - a million emotions were rushing through my head at the same time. If we'd found it wasn't him, I'd been all prepared for the disappointment and the resulting depression that would inevitably follow. No matter what I told Harry, I had let my hopes get built up. If we'd discovered it was him and that he'd ran out on us, hid away from his family like a coward, I would have been hurt and angry with him – I don't think I could have forgiven him for doing that to us.

But now…I didn't know how I was supposed to feel. It was him, I knew it was. He hadn't left us and he wasn't dead…he was alive. Alive, but with amnesia…everything from his past, from our past, was gone to him. Our history together, our relationship, marriage, our children – we'd all be complete strangers to him. How was I supposed to deal with that?

I was disturbed from my inner turmoil, suddenly as Harry, who was sitting facing the door, jumped in his seat and his eyes widened slowly. He looked as though he'd seen a ghost. "Bloody hell," he whispered.

I turned to see what he was looking at, and almost fainted. He might as well have seen a ghost! Ron had just walked into the pub – undeniably Ron. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might leap out of my chest and my head felt dizzy. "Oh My God," I whispered to myself, clutching my hand to my chest. Tears were pooling in my eyes and I couldn't look away from him. He looked a little different – his hair was shorter than I'd seen it in a long time, he was skinnier than I remembered, but not quite as pale – must be from all the working outside – and he had some facial hair, almost a goatee. But it was undeniably Ron, my husband – alive.

He turned his head then and I quickly looked away.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, he looked so concerned I knew I must have looked a complete state.

I nodded and wiped my eyes, trying to force a smile for him.

"Well, that's all the evidence I need." I'd forgotten Mr Bridges was still sat with us. "Listen, can you do me a favour? Don't tell him anything yet, give me time to have a word with him and prepare him. This is going to be a shock for him. Like I know it's been for you." He looked at me kindly, offering me a smile and I suspected he knew there was more to this than him just being an old close friend of ours.

I nodded and dared another peak back at him. Oh Merlin, he was heading this way. I looked to Harry panicked.

"Hey Max," Ron spoke. "Who's your friends?" he looked from Harry to me, offering me a brief smile.

My breath almost stopped…you have no idea what it was like to hear his voice again after all this time. The very same voice that had been such an integral part of my life for 17 years, before I'd lost him. A voice I never expected to hear again. Hearing him and seeing him standing larger than life less than a foot away from me was killing me. I had to physically restrain myself from throwing my arms around him and never, ever letting him go again.

"Ah, just discussing some business. Is the match starting yet?" Max asked Ron.

Ron glanced back towards the bar. "Yeah, think they're about ready." He grinned.

Sweet merlin, his grin, it was still the same. I wanted to cry, this was so damn beautifully painful.

"I'd best go. We're on the dart's team," Max explained. "Got a match tonight."

"Excuse us," Ron smiled at us again and headed back to the bar.

"I'll speak to him in the morning. Okay?" Max whispered before he left our table, and joined Ron at the bar.

I sat staring at Harry in stunned silence after that, not knowing what to say. Harry just looked at me, stunned himself. And then, quite alarmingly, but hardly unexpected, I burst into tears. I was just so overwhelmed with emotions.

"Hey, hey," Harry got up and moved beside me, patting my back. "Come on, let's get out of here before we gain an audience," he suggested. "We'll go back to the B&amp;B and talk." He got up and pulled me after him, leaving a pile of pound notes on the table for our meal.

We walked past Ron on the way out, I tried to stifle my tears as I chanced another look at him. I hadn't expected it to hurt this much. 


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank You as always for the wonderful reviews...you guys do wonders for my poor self esteem :)_

_Usual disclaimers apply, just borrowing these incredible characters. Here's chapter 4 for your reading pleasure :)_

**Chapter Four**

By the time we got back to the B&amp;B, I had calmed down a bit, with just the odd sniffle every now and then. "Great!" I hissed, turning the door knob. "The silly old bat has locked us out!" I was about to kick the door out of frustration, when Harry grabbed my sleeve and pulled me away.

"Come here. No point in upsetting her. She's scary enough when she's not upset," he muttered as he pulled me behind a hedge near the corner of the house and apparated us directly into our room.

I let go of his hand and began to pace around the room in agitation. Now that Ron wasn't in my sight I thought I'd be able to see things more clearly, that I could think about things logically. But, I was blinded by this pure conflict of emotions. Seeing the husband you presumed was gone forever, the husband you still loved just as much as the day you married him, and yet he didn't recognise you at all, it hurt, it hurt dreadfully.

"I'll erm, I'll make us some tea," Harry decided, watching me edgily, waiting for me to lose it completely. Only when he saw the state of the little kettle in the room and the tea cups beside it, he quickly changed his mind. "Eurgh," he grimaced, prodding at the brown gloop in the bottom of one of the cups with his wand. "I erm…like what you did with the rest of the place," he commented, glancing at the much better looking bed and the brighter décor.

I stopped my pacing and turned to glare at him. I wasn't in the mood to be discussing interior design.

He sat down then with a tired sigh and rested his elbows on his knees to prop up his head. "I'm sorry, I just…I don't know what to say."

I huffed loudly and threw myself down on the bed, thumping the mattress with my fist. "I don't know how I'm supposed to feel," I admitted, my voice muffled by the duvet. "I mean," I turned my head so he could hear me better, and to be honest the duvet smelt bad. "I know what Max told us, but all the time I was hoping he was mistaken, that he hadn't really lost his memory. Or…that he'd eventually see us and the shock would jolt him back. But you saw him Harry, his expression was blank – he hadn't a clue who we were." I sighed and buried my face into the bed again, regretting it when I remembered the horrid stench, and sat up instead, leaning back against the head board.

"I know," Harry understood. "Guess I thought he might have shown some recognition too. But, there really was nothing there. How do you think it happened? I mean…was it a spell or…"

"If it had been a spell, magic should be able to fix it, but Max said they've tried all that. My best guess is it was probably when he fell through that barn roof." I kicked off my shoes. "Max said something about a beam having fallen on him – it probably hit him on the head. Amnesia can sometimes happen in head injuries. How do you think he ended up here anyway?"

Harry shrugged and got up to pace the room, wandering to the window and looking out. "The battle was pretty full on. None of us were prepared for it - was only meant to be a stake out. Plus, there were more of them than we expected. The last we saw, he was two against one, so it's possible he could have got himself cornered, panicked and disapparated away. If he was injured before that I suppose his concentration could have been off. I don't really know, I don't suppose we ever will." he turned to look at me sadly. "Do…do people who, you know, have amnesia. Do they ever get their memory back?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, willing the tears to stay back – I'd done enough crying. "Sometimes," I shrugged, hesitantly. "I mean…it's rare for the memory to be gone this long. But…it's possible it could still come back. His memories might just be in brief snatches though, visions of things he's done and of his past. But not the way you or I remember everything. I don't really know."

"Perhaps if we can get him home, get him around familiar people? Take him to St Mungo's?" he suggested hopefully.

"Yes, but how do you convince him to come back with us? We're strangers to him, complete strangers. I can't just drag him back to the marital bed and say, oh by the way, we're married – here's your kids! Oh Merlin's pants! The kids!" I shot up off the bed. "How the hell do I tell them that the daddy I told them would never come home, is now back?" That was it – the tears began to fall again and I gave in to the huge heaving sobs.

"Oh, Hermione," Harry hugged me. "I'm so sorry, you don't deserve this."

"None of us deserved any of this," I sniffed, rummaging in my pocket for a tissue. Harry found one first and handed it to me.

"It's clean," he promised, with a wry smile.

I took it from him gratefully and dabbed at my eyes. "I mean, haven't we suffered enough? We sacrificed our damn childhoods, lost far too many friends and loved ones and went through hell. And now this? Life can be so bloody cruel!" I blew my nose.

"I know, you'd think the universe owed us plenty of happiness, right?" He gave a humourless laugh. "Look, I'll stay here tonight if you want. We can just talk and…I'll find us something decent to drink from somewhere. Or…"

"No, you go home to Ginny. She'll be waiting to hear from you no doubt. But, please don't tell my kids anything. Not yet."

"Course I won't. You sure you don't want me to stay?"

I shook my head. "Might be nice to be alone and have a damn good cry and it won't be pretty," I warned him.

Harry smiled and found me another tissue. "Okay then. I'll come back in the morning and…hopefully we can speak to him together. Perhaps pending some time with us, it might jog his memory or something."

"We can hope Harry. That's about all we can do." I sighed.

After he'd left, I got ready for bed, transfiguring the bedding into something that smelt much more pleasant and fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

The following morning I suffered the wrath of Mrs Wilson when I woke too late for breakfast. Harry wasn't even back yet, I suspected he was having a hard time trying to explain things to Ginny and prevent her from rushing out here as well.

"Breakfast is finished!" Mrs Wilson almost barked at me when I ventured out of the room.

"I, oh…yes. I'm sorry, I wasn't very hungry." I stuttered my apologies. Honestly, everything about this woman was far too reminiscent of the old toad, Umbridge at Hogwarts! Not a pleasant reminder at any time of the day, let alone first thing in the morning.

"Huh," she grunted. "Di'nt hear you come in last night."She commented. "An' you need to pay for the room an'all," she added.

"Yes, of course, I'll bring it right down. Actually, can we book for another couple of nights?" I asked, trying to be polite even though she did nothing to deserve manners.

"How long you wanting to stay for?" she queried, almost backing me into a corner.

"Erm…" I tried to think of an answer. I mean, how long did it take to convince your husband that he was in fact your husband and that he needed to come home to his family, when he didn't remember any of us? "Until the end of the week?" I suggested. If we needed to stay longer than that, we'd have to work something else out.

She grunted again. "Payment up front, 'fore you go out today," she warned.

"Okay, that's fine," I turned and headed back up stairs to the room, before I lost my temper with her. Thankfully when I walked through the door, Harry was back.

"Oh Thank God!" I sighed. "I just had a run in with old Umbridge downstairs!"

"Umbridge?" Harry looked alarmed and pulled out his wand.

"I meant Mrs Wilson, doesn't she remind you of her?"

"Oh." He relaxed and put his wand away. "Yeah, a bit I suppose." He rubbed his forehead. He looked tired, as though he'd had even less sleep than me – and I'd spent half the night tossing and turning.

"Come on," I decided, picking up my bag. "Let's go see if we can get a decent cup of coffee anywhere.

Thankfully, the local pub, which seemed to be the only eating establishment in the village, were still serving breakfast for another hour when we got there. I ordered scrambled eggs on toast, whereas Harry went for the full English.

"How were Rosie and Hugo?" I asked him, after we'd ordered and picked up my coffee cup. I felt so guilty for going away and leaving them. With their father gone, I rarely left them over night, unless they stayed over at The Burrow – which they loved.

"I didn't see them. They were all in bed when I got home last night, then I left before they were up this morning. Figured it would be best not to see them and upset them again. Ginny said they're fine though, they soon settled down after we left."

"That's good," I smiled, pleased to know they weren't still upset. "And…how was Ginny?" I wondered. Harry still looked tired, but the coffee had perked him up some.

Harry groaned and hung his head in his hand. "I think I spent half the night arguing with her." he admitted,

"I'm sorry," I apologised, feeling this was all my fault.

"You know how she is. So head strong," he looked up and drank some more coffee. "She didn't believe one word about the amnesia thing and demanded to know why we hadn't just dragged him back home. Then she was all set for coming out here and having it out with him. It took me ages for her to see sense. This is going to be difficult enough, without her yelling at him. I mean…my wife scares me sometimes when she gets pissed off, but…imagine some irate, though beautiful, redhead screaming at you and you have no idea who they are?" He grinned wryly.

I laughed once, imaging the look on poor Ron's face. It was akin to the mortification I'd seen him go through when he'd once received a Howler from his mother whilst at school.

Our breakfast arrived then and we both tucked in eagerly. I was rather glad I had missed breakfast at the B&amp;B this morning, judging from the smell coming from downstairs anyway. "Did she believe you in the end then?" I asked, after a few moments of concentrated munching. "Ginny I mean, that Ron has amnesia?"

"I think so. At least I made her promise not to come out here and leave us to deal with it. So long as we do everything we can to get him home," he added, spearing a sausage on his fork.

"Is she going to let anyone else know? I mean…like Molly?" I wondered, looking up at him as I nibbled on a slice of toast.

"Not yet," he spoke through a mouthful of sausage and shook his head. "I told her to let us speak to him first," he added once he swallowed. "I promised I'd tell her more tonight and we'll decide on what to do about Molly after that. Were you alright in that room last night by the way? I mean…you could always disapparate home, no one would know."

"It was fine, at least since I magically enhanced it all. And…well, I sort of like knowing he's so close. I know that sounds silly, but…" I shrugged and blushed a little.

"Not silly at all," he smiled compassionately across the table at me.

"Ah! I was hoping I'd find you in here!" We looked up to find Mr Bridges heading our way.

"Hello," I smiled, dropping my toast onto my plate and wiping my hands on a napkin. "Have you spoken to him?" I asked, eagerly.

"Aye," he nodded. "This morning, over breakfast."

"And…how did he take it?" Harry wondered as I waited eagerly for the answer.

Mr Bridges thought over his answer, pursing his lips on his lined old face. "Well, he was a bit confused at first. I mean, he doesn't understand how you found him. And shocked that anyone has. But, now he's eager to meet you and find out more about himself…a little nervous too I expect. Anyway, we were wondering whether you'd be available for lunch?"

"Today?" I yelped and almost sloshed coffee down my blouse.

"Aye, if that would be okay? We could meet in here, and then I'll leave him to chat with you."

"Yes," I said eagerly, grasping at the chance. "Of course."

"Sounds good," Harry nodded, a grin on his face. I think for the first time, I truly understand how painful it had been for Harry to lose his best friend and how much he'd missed him. He might have Ginny and the kids and a whole family now with the Weasley's, but he and Ron had been side by side, partners in crime, since that very first day on the Hogwarts Express. His very first friend.

"Good, good. So…about one o'clock be alright?" he asked.

"Yes. We'll be here," I nodded enthusiastically.

Mr Bridges merely nodded and headed back out of the pub. I turned to look back at Harry and we both grinned hugely at one another.

It was only 9.30 when we finished breakfast and left the pub, another three and a half hours until our arranged meeting. Already I felt antsy and checked my watch every few minutes, wondering what would happen. When we started telling him things, would it all suddenly flood back to him? Would he recognise us and we'd finish up in some wild reunion? Or, would he still be none the wiser and listen to our stories about him as though we were talking about some fictional character from a book? I decided there and then not to tell him yet that we were married or that we had children together…not until he knew a bit more, maybe until he actually remembered something about us. Hearing that information from a stranger might freak you out, just a little bit.

With nothing else to do, Harry and I wandered down to the beach, about a half an hour walk along a country lane. All the way we discussed how much to tell him, to let him control the conversation and ask us what he needed to know. We didn't want to bombard him with too much information at first. And then, we'd just have to hope things came back to him, that hearing these stories and being with us jogged his memory somehow. We were pinning a lot on this word hope. A word that implied you believe you have a chance at something. Yet I wasn't entirely convinced we did.

Once back in the village, I insisted on heading back to the B&amp;B half an hour before we were due to meet him to get ready. I wanted to look nice for him, why when he didn't know who I was, I wasn't sure. But…I felt I should make an effort. Perhaps I was just hoping he was going to fall in love with me all over again and everything would come back to him. All I knew was, I was willing to try anything. I wouldn't stop until I had my husband back – memory complete and whole again.

* * *

"They're late!" I huffed, slamming the menu I had already read six times, down onto the table.

"Only by ten minutes." Harry checked his watch and shrugged, none perturbed.

"Huh," I scoffed and returned to my perusal of the menu. I don't know why – it was rather limited and I knew it by heart now. I had been on edge ever since we came in 20 minutes ago. If I wasn't looking through the menu, I was sorting the cutlery in the little basket on the table, lining up the salt and pepper pots straight with the vinegar and matching the little packets of sauces in a bowl. Every time I heard the door, I'd jump and turn around and then sigh loudly when it wasn't them.

"Hermione, please?" Harry asked, placing his hand over mine when I began to sort the sauce packets again.

"Sorry, sorry," I shook my head and leant back in my seat, closing the menu. "I don't know why I'm so nervous."

He just gave me an understanding smile across the table. Of course I knew why I was nervous. This was like a first date with the man I'd spent more than half of my life with. And somehow I had to convince him not only to remember me, but to fall in love with me all over again. Damnit – it had taken us seven years to fall in love the first time, or at least seven years to do anything about it.

"Here they come," Harry suddenly muttered, sitting up in his seat and shuffling up the booth to make room for them. I froze, not daring to turn around.

"Sorry we're late," Max muttered as they both stood by the table. I looked up at Ron and smiled at him. He'd made an effort, the facial hair I'd noticed yesterday looked tidier and he'd put on a clean shirt, I was pleased to note. He might have even brushed his hair. "Anyway, I'm not stopping, got lots to do. So…erm, well these are the pair I told you about," Max spoke to Ron. "Friends of yours from school, thought it would be good for you to sit and talk with them."

Ron nodded, he looked nervous, I suppose I would be at being left with perfect strangers. I was able to view him closer as he sat down beside Harry. Physically he was practically the same man I'd last seen 22 months ago. But, his eyes were totally different. Oh, they were still the same incredible blue, but he'd lost that sparkle, they just had a very faraway look in them. He seemed lost.

"I didn't catch your names yesterday," I realised Max was still talking and dragged my eyes away from Ron's face before I made him uncomfortable.

"I'm Harry,," he shook Max's hand and then Ron's.

"He…Hermione," I stammered out, shaking Max's hand and then Ron's. The instant our skin touched, a bolt of electricity ran up my arm and straight to my heart. I gasped, audibly and he pulled his hand away sharply, as though I had burnt him. Had he felt it too?

Max was looking between the three of us curiously, a puzzled look on his face as he looked at us each in turn. And then a realisation came to him and I think he knew who we were, why our names were familiar and that we were more than school friends. We were war hero's - 'The Golden Trio', the Daily Prophet had hailed us as.

"Well, I'll leave you all to it. Roland, take as long as you need…I won't need you this afternoon," he patted his friend on the back and wandered away.

"Erm, well…I'm Roland," he muttered once we were left alone. "At least that's what they call me now."

"We always knew you as Ron. Ronald Weasley." Harry smiled at his best mate.

Ron nodded and then laughed once. "Well, at least we got the right letters, just mixed up a bit," he laughed again and that seemed to break the ice a little.

A waitress came over before anything else could be said, I ordered the salad – something to pick at as I didn't think I would be able to eat. Whilst the boys both ordered a burger. I noted Ron still liked his meat cooked the same – well done – he used to freak about any red juices on his plate. Small things like that were important to me, giving me hope that there was still something of the man I knew and loved in there, somewhere.

"So, we were friends in school? The three of us?" Ron asked next.

Harry nodded. "The best of friends. You and I met on the way to Hogwarts, on the train the first day. We were friends from that moment on. Probably because I bought loads of sweets from the trolley and we shared them all the way to school," they both laughed at that.

"We met on the way, but we weren't exactly friends at first." I finally joined the conversation. "I think you probably thought I was a bit…"

"Of a bossy know it all!" Harry finished for me.

"Thank you Harry," I kicked him under the table. "I was just trying to prove myself," I insisted and folded my arms. "Anyway, that all changed at Halloween, when the pair of you saved me from a giant troll in the girls toilets and then, I lied to the teachers so you didn't get into trouble." I remembered back to our first year.

Ron roared with laughter at that – I loved his laugh, it hadn't changed at all, it was still infectious as I giggled along with him. "I suppose fighting a troll together is bound to forge a friendship," he laughed again. "Wait," he sobered up. "What the hell was a troll doing in a school full of children?"

Harry and I looked at one another and shook our heads. "A long story," Harry sighed. As best he could, without divulging everything about Voldemort's story just yet and the approaching war that happened or our involvement in it, Harry began to explain about the troll. Pausing briefly when the waitress brought our food.

"Great, I'm bloody starving," Ron dug right in, a burger in one hand as he shoved four chips into his mouth with the other. Normally, I might have reproached him for his language and table manners, but right now it just made me smile – there was further glimpses of _my_ Ron, not Roland. "Sounds a bit of a dangerous school," he muttered once Harry had finished his tale.

"You have no idea," I murmured and shook my head.

"Hey, by the way. How old am I exactly? Often wondered. Mildred, Max's wife, reckons I'm about 28 or 29."

"You turned 31 on March 1st," I answered him.

"31?" He looked positively glum about that.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm 32 in September," I shrugged.

Ron smiled at me over the table. "Thanks," he muttered through a mouth full of burger. "So, erm…" he began again, once he'd swallowed his food. "Do you know what happened? I mean…how I, erm…disappeared?" he asked.

Harry sighed. "We don't know, exactly," he began. "But, well…you were an Auror and we were on a miss…"

"An Auror? Me? A bloody Auror?" he pointed to himself with his fork and was getting louder in his complete disbelief.

"Shh," I whispered and looked around the rest of the pub. It was fairly quiet – but that just made it easier for people to overhear. Being together it was easy to forget we were out in the Muggle world.

"Oh, yeah," he looked sheepish and quietened down. "But…how the hell did I ever make it as an Auror?"

"You were very talented," I smiled proudly at him. "And you excelled in your training." I added. I'd always told him he would, when he'd been down on himself and claimed he'd only make it because he was Harry Potter's best mate and he was the Ministry's favourite protégé.

"Plus, you had loads of experience, more than some Aurors see in a life time," Harry added without thinking.

Ron looked confused and a little startled, probably wondering what the hell his life had entailed.

"Well, you know, not many Aurors see a fully grown troll, let alone fights one off when they're 11 years old," I laughed, making a joke of it. Ron grinned at me and my heart melted. Had I ever stopped loving him, for even a brief second, I knew I would have fallen in love all over again with that grin.

"Yeah, so, anyway. We were out on a mission…" Harry finished explaining what we knew about his disappearance and then what Max had filled in for us.

We spent hours chatting, long after we'd finished our meals. Ron and Harry had eaten dessert and eventually the staff started giving us looks, wondering when we'd clear off so they could clean up, I expect. We talked about everything, what he was doing now and how kind the Bridges had been to him after, what he now referred to as, his accident. He asked about school some more, wanted to know about Quidditch and if we'd seen any live matches. He was utterly amazed to learn he'd once played on the school team, though when he asked if he was any good, Harry and I might have elaborated the truth a little! Well, not too much – he did help win the cup two years in a row, after all, he just had confidence issues.

We purposely stayed away from risky topics of a personal nature, sticking to facts and old stories. He never asked about his family, his parents, whether he'd had a partner, nothing. And we'd both agreed not to tell him anything he didn't ask about – it was just too dangerous waters to get into. It was weird, he seemed to have basic knowledge of the Wizarding world – he'd heard of Hogwarts, knew all about Quidditch and knew of the Ministry. But, anything personal to him, it was gone – as though he'd blanked it all from his mind.

He had explained that since the Bridges went into hiding, they lived basically as Muggles and rarely used magic anymore, so he missed out on a lot of what was going on in the Wizarding World.

That would explain why they hadn't recognised him, or us. After his disappearance, the story frequented in the Daily Prophet for some weeks. After all, the loss of one of the Golden Trio was a blow to the moral of the magical community. I'd been asked for interviews numerous times, but always refused. How I felt about the loss of my husband, was my damn business and not cheap fodder to gain sympathy votes in a newspaper. Besides, how did they think I felt?

"Wow, look at the time!" Ron exclaimed, as he'd stretched his arms out and caught sight of his watch. It was almost five already – no wonder the staff wanted us gone! "I should probably be heading back. I know Max said he didn't need me today, but he always needs a hand bringing the cows in the for night, no matter what he says. He's not as young as he used to be!" he chuckled lightly.

My heart dropped at the mention of him leaving. For just a short while, I could pretend this was simply the three of us out to dinner together. That nothing had changed.

"We have been sat here almost four hours," Harry commented. "Think my backside has gone numb," he joked, shifting position in his seat.

"Are you guys going to be staying around town for a bit longer?" Ron asked, before he got up. "I mean, I'd like to chat some more, if that's okay? It's interesting to hear stuff about yourself, even if you don't remember it," he laughed at his own words. "That makes no sense!" he laughed louder.

"We're planning on staying a few days, now we found you." Harry grinned at his best mate and patted his shoulder jovially.

"Why wait? What about tonight? We could have dinner and…" I began animatedly, not wanting to let him go.

"Hermione, think perhaps we've overwhelmed him enough for one day?" Harry asked, gently.

I looked at Ron and smiled sheepishly, he did look a bit exhausted and knew he never coped well with information overload. If we were going to get him back, to regain his memories and return to us completely, then we had to go slow and I had to be patient. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry Ron," I smiled at him, wanting desperately to touch him again.

"Still sounds weird hearing you call me that," he shrugged, a little abashedly as he climbed from the booth. "Anyway…think Harry's right, I need to go and try to digest everything you told me. Still can't bloody believe I'm 31!" Of all the things we'd told him, he was still sulking about that!

"Well, how about tomorrow night? We could have dinner maybe? I mean…if you wanted to and you weren't busy or…"

"Tomorrow night sounds fine," Ron smiled at my rambling.

"Great!" I grinned and dared reach out to squeeze his hand still resting on the table. He looked down at our hands in surprise and the tips of his ears turned red.

"Erm, yeah," he mumbled, moving his hand from under mine and I instantly felt bad about it. He picked up his glass and finished his pint. "I'll see you both tomorrow then, about 7.30 or something?" he wondered.

"Sounds good," Harry nodded. "See ya mate,"

"See ya then. bye!" Ron waved, backing away out of the pub.

"So," Harry began, shoving his hands in his pockets as we walked down the street, heading back to the B&amp;B – there really was nothing else to do here. "How do you think that went?"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, thinking over the last few hours. "I think there's hope," I eventually answered. "I mean…a lot of his mannerisms are exactly the same, his use of language, silly things like that. And…he seemed comfortable with us fairly quickly, as though deep down his soul knew us or something," I shrugged, knowing that sounded cheesy.

"I noticed that too." Harry commented. "Also noticed a lot of swearing, thought you were gonna thump his arm like you used to at one point," he laughed.

I smiled at that. "I might have done. Just for an excuse to touch him," I confessed. "It's hard being around him, when he looks exactly the same, and yet everything is so different. He blushed when I touched his hand!" I exclaimed. "He'd probably bolt if I hugged him, but that's all I want to do…my arms ache for him." I felt my own face flushing now, admitting that to Harry. He knew how much I loved Ron, how special he was to me, just as I knew how much he cherished his relationship with Ginny – he was crazy about her. But it wasn't something we ever voiced to each other.

"Anyway," I continued. "I still think…he's in there somewhere, our Ron, the Ron we know. We just have to help him remember." I sighed.

"We'll get him back, Hermione. I promise." he assured me, turning up the path to Mrs Wilson's house.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Apologies for the slight delay this week guys, I realised I had made a slight miscalculation with something that affected the story, so I had to go back and edit it...all sorted now.**_

_**Thank you as always for your reviews.**_

**_Usual disclaimers apply...just a fan loving this Magical world!_**

**Chapter Five**

"Hermione!" Ron dashed into the pub, wheezing my name and sliding to a stop when he found me curled up in a corner of the establishment with a pot of tea and a book.

"Ron," I gasped, looking up at him and putting down my book instantly.

"Hey, I was hoping you'd be in here. I erm, wasn't sure where you staying or anything," he confessed, now looking a little awkward.

"We're at the B&amp;B down the road, Mrs Wilson's," I replied. "Though, it's not very pleasant there to say the least, so I get out when I can."

"Yeah, can imagine, she's a bit of dragon," he laughed, obviously having had experience with her.

"There's nowhere else to go in the village though." I explained my reason for sitting in a pub at nine thirty in the morning. It was raining heavily this morning, but I couldn't stay in that smelly B&amp;B room. No amount of magic I'd tried had managed to cover up the stench of what smelt like old cabbages, mould and cat urine in the room.

"Nah, it's a little boring around here," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at me. "Is that…are you reading a Muggle book?" he asked curiously, peering at the front cover of the cheap, trashy romance novel I had picked up in the corner shop half an hour ago. I couldn't believe I hadn't packed anything to read - Hermione Granger, with nothing to read, really?

"Well, I can't very well sit in here reading 'Hogwarts: A History', can I?" I laughed.

"Huh?" Ron scrunched his nose up.

"Never mind," I flapped my hand. "Just an old silly joke between us."

"Oh, wish I could remember," he muttered.

"Yeah, me too," I sighed. "Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"Oh yeah," he suddenly remembered why he'd been running around the village looking for me. He sat down opposite me. "So, I often have these dreams…only I'm never sure whether they're just weird dreams, or glimpses of my past. Anyway, after talking to you both yesterday, I had another dream last night and…I wanted to ask you something."

"Yes?" I asked, hopeful, excited that he might have remembered something about me, about us.

"Yeah, that three headed dog you mentioned, fluffy? He was in it, and you and Harry, though we were all kids. And…I remember music playing, then going through some trap door, landing on something squishy. And there was a huge chess board at some point, think we were playing the game as chess pieces," he looked confused. "Is…can any of that be real?" he asked me.

I nodded. "All of it," I told him. I was glad he had remembered something from his past, yet tried to hide the slight disappointment it wasn't anything significant about us. I had to be patient, I reminded myself.

"Really?" he asked, wide eyed. "Even the giant chess pieces?"

"Yes," I smiled patiently at him, the way I did when trying to explain things to Rose sometimes. "You forget, it was a magic school," I whispered, conspiratorially. Ron laughed. "Remember that Philosopher's stone we told you about? The reason behind the troll being in the school?" He nodded. "Well…all those things you dreamt, they were obstacles meant to protect the stone from being stolen. The music put fluffy to sleep so you could sneak through the trapdoor. The squishy stuff we landed on, was a huge plant, devils snare…that could practically squeeze you to death. And then the giant chess board…we had to play our way across. Good thing you're an expert chess player."

"I am?" His eyes widened. "I mean…Max sometimes challenges me to a game and I usually win. I just thought it was because he was, well…old." He chuckled once. "Wow," he grinned to himself, probably feeling good about being great at something. "So, my dream was actually my real memories?" he mused to himself. "I wonder how many other dreams have actually been real events?"

"Probably quite a few." I pointed out. "I think your memories are still all there, in your subconscious…present in your mind without your awareness of it. But, when you're asleep, your guards are down and your mental activity is not directly perceived by your consciousness, so memories and feelings slip through without your realization of it."

"Erm…" he frowned, trying to work out what I had just said and I realised I'd rambled one of my long, text book answers. "So, you just mean my memories can slip through in my sleep when my minds more relaxed?"

"Yes, pretty much." I nodded, pleased he'd understood.

"Great! Maybe I should sleep all the time, might remember more stuff then," he sighed and looked slightly put out.

"It will come back, I'm sure of it. I mean, now you have us to ask about stuff. You just need to be patient," I stroked his arm, before I even realised I was doing it. The heat of his skin seeped through the cotton of his shirt and my hand tingled at the connection.

He gazed down at my hand on his arm for a moment and then looked up at me slowly and coughed. "Well," he suddenly jumped up from his seat. "I had best be off. Only came into the village because Max asked me to pick up some bread and his morning paper. Don't know why he reads that Muggle trash though…" he rolled his eyes. "Full of doom and gloom or some weird celebrities I've never even heard of with barely any clothes on!" He looked scandalised, shaking his head. "Anyway, have a good morning," he nodded, before backing away and heading for the door.

"I'll see you later," I added to his retreating back.

"Later! Oh yeah, damn," he turned and came back. "Forgot, another reason I was looking for you. Mentioned to Mildred over breakfast that I was meeting you and Harry for dinner tonight, to talk more. And, she insisted I invite you both to the farm for dinner, with us. So, erm…do you wanna come?" He stood, bouncing on his heals with his hands behind his back and looking nervous.

"We'd love to," I smiled and nodded. "That sounds lovely."

"Great!" He grinned. "So erm…she said about seven, if that's okay? It's the big farm house out of the village, down Creasons Road. Has a big red roof. Hang on, I'll draw you a map." He grabbed a napkin and borrowed a pen from the bar. For a few seconds he doodled on the napkin and then handed it to me, complete with his scruffy scrawl that I knew almost as well as my own, having read over his essays so often in school and then later, his reports for work.

"Perfect. We'll both be there. I'll see you later Ron," I smiled at him, tucking the napkin carefully into my bag.

He smiled at me. "I'm actually getting used to you calling me that, already." He admitted, "Right…best go get this bread!" he remembered again and darted out of the pub. I laughed at him as he left – some things didn't change apparently.

* * *

Harry returned to the village just before lunchtime. He'd sent me an owl early this morning to let me know he was heading over to The Burrow with Ginny and the kids to tell Molly about Ron. Having exhausted the village's assets, we'd disapparated to a small seaside town further down the coast and, as we walked together along the sea front, I told him of my encounter with Ron this morning and the slight change of plans for tonight.

Since the rain had eased off and the sun was out again now, we decided to stop for lunch at a little fish and chip kiosk on the front. "So, how did Molly take it?" I asked, biting into a chip as we sat down at a picnic table.

"Honestly, she scared me," he replied, opening his can of coke. "I mean, I thought she was going to faint at first!"

"Well, it is rather a shock." I nodded my understanding, after all I'd felt the same way when I first found out. "Finding out your son is back from the dead, so to speak."

"I know…but then she bombarded me with dozens of questions. How he was, how did he look, what had happened, where he'd been all this time and everything. It really took some time getting her to understand about the amnesia stuff. She insisted it was daft and that he would remember her. I hadn't the heart to say he hadn't even mentioned her." He shrugged and ate a chip.

"It's tough," I sighed. "Even though I understand he simply _can't_ remember us, it still kind of hurts that he doesn't."

Harry nodded, his mouth full. "Still, with Ginny's help, we managed to persuade her that rushing out here and flinging her arms around her long lost son wouldn't be such a good idea right now. She just made me promise that we'll bring him home."

"That's our intention," I opened my drink. "Are Rosie and Hugo okay?"

"Ginny says they've been fine, but they're staying with Molly tonight. Ginny has an article she needs to finish and can't find a quiet moment with a house full of kids."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dumping my two on her as well."

"Oh, no, she thought you'd say that, and she doesn't mind at all. Besides, they're all stopping with Grandma tonight, my three included. Then Ginny can get her work done."

"Poor Molly," I laughed,

"Rubbish, she thrives on it,"Harry grinned. "You know she loves nothing more than a house full of kids."

"True," I nodded. "I think my Hugo could've given the twins a run for their money at that age though."

"Yeah, Ginny did mention some minor incident…don't worry, it was nothing serious," he quickly added upon my alarmed face. "No bugs out of his nose this time," he chuckled. "It was some game he and Al have invented, something about hunting dragons."

I shook my head. "Should've known dragons would be involved. Oh, I do hope my little boy doesn't end up like Hagrid," I sighed.

Harry laughed loudly at that and people around us stared. "Erm, anyway…they were traipsing around the garden, but Hugo tripped and fell on the stick he was using as a wand, it jabbed into his leg. Ginny fixed him right up, of course, but he asked her for a plaster, she didn't know what one was and he got upset."

"Sorry, that's my mum's doing. If they ever get into any scrapes when she's looking after them, she puts a plaster on it, since obviously she can't do, magic," I whispered for fear people might hear. "My kids now think they're such a novelty and Hugo asks for them for every little scratch - especially when my mum bought him some with pictures of dinosaurs on, he swears they're dragons!" I rolled my eyes.

Harry laughed. "Well, he's fine now and I explained what they are to Ginny – she thinks it sounds weird!"

"But, apart from that, are they okay? I feel bad leaving them."

"They're fine for now. But…you might wanna visit soon or something. Rose has started asking when you're coming home a lot and where you are. She's been following Ginny around a lot too."

"She gets unnerved when I leave her. I'm always afraid it will bring those nightmares back. I'll go and spend some time with them tomorrow." I decided. "In fact…" I finished up my lunch and got up to throw the empty carton away. "Let's go down to those shops, and I'll buy them both something fun."

"Great idea, I can get Lily something for her birthday. Can't believe she'll be two in just a few weeks." He shook his head as he got up to follow me. "Mind you," he whispered. "I'm not so sure they'll sell dragons!" He laughed.

* * *

"Mildred." Ron led us into a cosy, typical old fashioned farmhouse kitchen. Complete with a fire place and pots hanging above it, a large butler sink, the essential scrubbed wooden table and a mismatch of wooden cabinets. "This is Harry, and Hermione," he introduced us as she turned from the range she was cooking on.

"Hello," she wiped her hands quickly on a tea towel and then shook our hands.

"Thank you so much for inviting us," I replied politely. "We've heard a lot about you, it's nice to finally meet."

"I'm glad you could come. It's wonderful to finally get some answers about this young man," she nodded toward Ron, whose ears were turning pink at the tips. "Now, you both sit down. "Roland, why don't you go and get Max, he's in the barn. Tell him our guests have arrived and dinner is almost ready."

"Sure. I'll be right back," he told us and sprinted out of the stable style door.

After he was gone, she eyed us both intently. "So, you're the infamous Harry Potter then?"

"You know who I am?" Harry asked in slight alarm.

"Of course. Doesn't everyone in the Magical world? Max suddenly realised who you were the other night in the pub. He came home and told me. So, I suppose if you're Harry, and you're Hermione. That would make him Ron Weasley." She nodded her head towards the door Ron had just ran out of. "The Golden trio together again." She sat down at the table and indicated for us to do the same.

"Well, yes. But, I thought you went into hiding before the war? So, how do you know all that?" I asked.

"Just because we were in hiding, didn't mean we didn't keep up to date with what was going on. We had to watch our backs and check we were still safe, that death eaters weren't getting too close to us. So, we saw the Daily Prophet reports, we know what the three of you did. How instrumental you all were to ending Voldemort's terrifying and hideous reign."

"Oh," Harry and I looked at one another. "But, Max told us that you gave up magic? Or at least gave up the Magical world." I was confused.

"We did. But not until after the war. By the time it was all over, we'd already been living here a couple of years. And well, we realised we were quite happily settled. We'd made friends in the village, and neither of us have living relatives in the magical realm. So, we were happy here and we decided to stay, living as Muggles. Of course, we still use magic in emergencies, such as when we found Roland. I spent awhile healing him."

"Thank you," I whispered, wishing I could convey to her just how thankful I was for saving his life.

She waved away my thanks. "Of course, if we had still been in touch with magical ways, we might have realised who he was. It had been 10 years since those articles after the war, he's grown up a lot, never even crossed my mind. But, had we not lost touch, we might have seen the reports of him missing and got in touch with someone. We don't really hear any news from our old life anymore."

"Well, at least he's alive. And we found him now," I smiled, grateful for small mercies.

"Yes, you have. And now, with the two of you to talk to and fill in the blanks for him, maybe his memory can finally heal."

"I hope so," I sighed. "But…it's going to be a slow process…there are a lot of painful memories too, a lot of difficult times for all of us. Some things will cause him pain and I don't want to overwhelm him or upset him about things, at least not yet. One day he'll have to know, but not right now."

"That's perfectly understandable." she nodded. "It's obvious you care a great deal for him. I suspect this is a bit more than just a couple of old friends searching for their missing friend?" She raised a critical eyebrow.

"Oh, erm…we, er…" I stumbled over my words, wondering just how much she suspected. Did she know we were married? Could she tell I was still hopelessly in love with him? "We just, well, we have a lot of history together." I finally answered, just before Ron returned with Max, and a little white terrier in tow. She patted my hand and gave me a silent smile as she stood up to serve dinner.

"Dinner smells wonderful, Milly dear," Max inhaled deeply as he went to the sink to wash his hands.

Ron was crouched on the floor, patting the dogs belly and ears. I smiled, he'd always wanted a dog, but by the time we moved into a house with a garden for one, we just never got around to it, busy building our careers. And then the children came along and neither of us had the time or energy to care for a dog as well.

"Yes, well, come on, sit down." She took a chicken pie from the oven and set it on the table, followed by a bowl of crisp salad and another bowl of steaming, buttery new potatoes.

"No one cooks better than Mildred." Ron told us, standing up from playing with the dog and washing his hands quick, before taking his seat at the table, opposite me.

"What? Even better than your…" Harry nudged me to be quiet.

"Huh?" Ron looked up from cutting himself a slice of pie as I faded off.

"Nothing," I smiled. "This all looks lovely."

"Well, dig in then, don't be shy. Plenty to go around." She offered me the bowl of potatoes and we all began passing dishes around the table until we tucked in to our food. Ron was right, she was a marvellous cook, but…I still reckon Molly was some fierce competition.

Conversation flowed around the table and it soon transpired that Mildred was three years older than Max. "He's my toy boy," she teased him. "We met at St Mungos, when he came in with spell damage." She laughed at some memory.

"Do we have to tell this story?" Max muttered, gazing down at his plate.

"But it's funny dear. Haven't been able to tell this story for years," she chuckled. "See, he'd somehow managed to give himself a huge, and I mean huge, wart, right in the middle of his forehead! And, the longer he sat waiting to see a healer, the more this wart was growing and others were popping up all over his body. He was a right mess, I can tell you," she laughed and squeezed her husbands hand. "Anyway, I soon got him sorted and finally recognised him without all the warts. Couldn't believe it was the same gangly boy that had been three years below me at Hogwarts. We fell in love soon after that…Max had a habit of inflicting himself with spell damage.

"You ever thought I did it on purpose as an excuse to see you again, dear?" he asked.

"You didn't?" she gasped. "After all these years…" she shook her head slowly at this new revelation.

"You were at Hogwarts?" Harry grasped onto that subject.

"Oh, yes. Though I suppose it was very different from when you were there. Professor Dumbledore had just become headmaster when I started. I was so scared when I first started, I'd no idea I was a witch until about three months before the school year began. There I was, planning on going to the local secondary school with all my friends, when I was suddenly informed I was a witch and had a place at a special boarding school. My parents were rather shocked."

"I felt the same." I nodded. "I was so nervous and I guess I felt I had to prove something. My parents were rather proud of me though, I think they always thought there was something a little...different about me."

"You're Muggle-born?" Ron asked me.

"Yes." I nodded. "Both my parents are Muggles, they're dentists." I added.

"Oh," he returned to his meal, with a curious look on his face, probably trying to work out what a dentist was.

"Roland told me the stories you were telling him yesterday, about what you got up to in your first year. A few terrible things happened there before I started. I have to say I'm glad they seemed to be over by then, otherwise I don't think I could ever have gone back."

"What happened?" Harry and I both asked, intrigued by the conversation. Ron even looked up, it was obviously not a story he had heard, I suspected they didn't talk much about their magical lives with him, or anyone, anymore.

"Well...I heard a girl was killed. They found her body in the girls lavatories."

"You don't mean Moaning Myrtle?" I almost choked on a potato.

"Yes. Did you come across her? Oh, I tried to avoid that bathroom. But once or twice when I was distracted with panicking over my exams, I went in there…she scared me half to death!"

"Who was Moaning Myrtle" Ron asked.

"Oh come on, you have to remember old Myrtle?" Harry asked him. "I mean, you two had such a lovely…friendship!" he laughed.

"Yeah, well…no memories," he knocked on his head. "Remember." He sulked.

"Oh, yeah, sorry mate," Harry muttered, feeling bad.

"She was a ghost," I explained to Ron. "She haunted the girls toilets on the first floor. And well, she was usually crying, hence her being known as '_moaning'_ Myrtle. She was killed in her third year. We had a few…run ins with her during our years at school."

"Oh, right," he muttered, pretending he didn't care.

"I don't really know how she died. The other kids liked to talk about it a lot. I heard someone was expelled over it, but I always suspected he wasn't really behind it." Mildred continued.

"He wasn't. Hagrid was expelled, but he didn't do it. It was Voldemort. Well, Tom Riddle. He opened the Chamber of Secrets which released a basilisk, that's what killed her."

"Oh my," she grasped her chest. "How do you know all this?"

"Well, we, erm, got ourselves into some…incidents in school. All part of the bigger picture that was to come. But…we uncovered that one in our second year and cleared Hagrid in the process."

"I see. Well, you certainly had an interesting time in school."

"I remember Hagrid," Max suddenly joined the conversation. "He lived on the grounds, as gamekeeper or something. He was a bloody big bloke…heard rumours he was part giant. Some people reckoned he was a bit of an idiot."

"Hagrid is a very close friend of ours," Harry stuck up for him.

"_I_ didn't think he was an idiot." Max defended himself. "Actually, Hagrid instilled in me my love of animals."

"Do you remember Hagrid?" I asked Ron, gently.

He shook his head. "Nope."

"He was very kind to us all, helped us out a lot…well, in his own way. He still thinks a lot of you." I told him.

"Oh," Ron muttered. "That's nice…someone else I don't remember!"

I watched him as he continued eating his meal, concentrating hard on his plate to avoid eye contact and I felt a little hurt – he didn't have to snap – I was only trying to include him in the conversation. Was this normal behaviour for him these days? Was this what the accident and being without loved ones for the past two years had done to him? Turned him into a sullen grouch? But then I felt guilty as I realised all this talk of Hogwarts and things he didn't remember must be frustrating for him. It must be really hard for him to hear us talk of his own childhood, of things he'd done and people he'd known, when he hadn't a clue about any of it.

"So…do you keep up with Quidditch?" I asked him, wanting to change the subject and hopefully his mood. I know he remembered Quidditch, since we'd talked about it the day before at the pub.

"Not so much," he shrugged. "We don't get the Prophet or the WWN or anything here. So…I don't have a clue what's been going on. Who won the last World Cup? Did England?" He grasped at a subject he could at least be involved in.

Harry shook his head. "Nah, sorry mate. We did make it to Semi-Finals though, but then Bulgaria beat us."

"Huh…bloody Bulgaria, bunch of morons!"

"Ron! What made you say that?" I wondered. Did it have anything to do with his jealousy over a certain Bulgarian player? A jealousy which stemmed from our fourth year when this player in question, Victor Krum, invited me to the Yule Ball. The ball I had longed for Ron to ask me to, but back then he was either too blind or too embarrassed to realise his feelings for me.

"I dunno. They just seem dumb," he shrugged. "So, who did win?" he asked Harry.

"Last time it was Italy…they beat Bulgaria by 310 points. The match went on for about nine hours before anyone caught the snitch…longest match I've ever been to!" he chuckled.

"You went?" Ron looked positively jealous.

"Yeah, my erm…well, someone I know managed to get us tickets," he muttered, not wanting to mention it was his wife, who was still involved in the Quidditch league, had secured tickets for a lot of the family that wanted to go. Nor the fact that she happened to be Ron's little sister.

"Wow! What about other teams? Who's top of the league and all that now?" Ron's mood changed dramatically, now that he had a conversation he could join in with. Obviously I had been right, and before he'd just been getting frustrated about all the things he couldn't remember.

They lost me then as the talk became a heated discussion of league tables, recent matches, scandals amongst the teams and players I'd never heard of. Max joined in occasionally, turned out he'd played on the Hufflepuff team in his last year at school. Mildred and I merely smiled at one another across the table as the boys chatted, before I got up to help her clear the dishes and serve up the pudding - a thick and creamy home made rice pudding, with strawberry jam.

"So, who's top of the league right now?" Ron asked.

"Not the Cannons, that's for sure!" Harry laughed, trying to entice him to remember something.

"What's wrong with the Cannons? They're a decent team."

"They've never won anything though, have they?"

"They try hard though," Ron unknowingly defended his team.

"I prefer the Harpies myself," Harry smiled smugly to himself, remaining loyal to the team his wife had played on for almost six years before James came along.

"Huh! Bunch of old women that team" Ron scoffed.

"Hey!" Harry was about to thump him, but then seemed to think better of it.

And as I watched them talking so passionately about the damn game, I realised I was jealous – of a stupid game! How could he remember all about Quidditch, the teams he supported, players on those teams and even bloody scores from years ago, when he couldn't even remember the slightest little detail about me? His wife! How was that fair? Why had his mind chosen to retain useless information about a game and yet nothing about his family, his children, our relationship…not even our friendship? Was a stupid, pointless game more important to him than us?

"Maybe we could start getting the Prophet delivered?" I heard Ron say and I realised they were still on the same subject. "I mean…just so I could keep up on the Quidditch scores and stuff." He suggested to Mildred and Max.

"I wouldn't mind that," Max agreed with a nod. "To be honest, sat here talking with all of you, it's making me sort of miss the magical world. It's been years since we've talked much about our wizarding years." He looked to his wife for her opinion.

"Yes…perhaps it's time we caught up with it all, see what's changed." She agreed.

"Well, perhaps after Ron's settled back home, you can come and visit and…" I realised what I'd said suddenly and faded off.

"Hang on." Ron looked up from his pudding sharply, creamy globs dripping from the spoon that had been half way to his mouth. "Who said anything about me going anywhere? I mean, this is home to me now."

"B...but…" I stammered, not knowing what to say and looking to Harry for help.

"Well, it's just…there's nothing for me out there now, is there? Nothing I remember anyway. My life is here now. All that stuff, it's in my past and gone as far as I'm concerned."

"How can you say that?" I yelled at him and everyone, including Ron, stared at me in surprise. "What about your parents? Your family? Don't they deserve to see you, to know you're alright? And what about…you have people out there who love you, you know." Harry was desperately trying to get my attention, to stop me going on by shaking my arm, but I angrily shook him off. Now I was furious with Ron. To not remember his family because of an injury was one thing. To not give a toss about them was something else entirely.

"But I don't know them, do I? They're just strangers to me. I mean, we can keep in touch, the three of us. We can chat in letters and…you can tell me more about my childhood and that. But," he sighed. "I don't see the point in causing a huge commotion for them by me suddenly turning up after all this time." He shrugged.

"It's not all about you, you know!" I snapped and threw my spoon into my bowl. "Don't you even care about your parents? What we, they, went through?"

"Hermione," Harry tried again nudging me furiously with his elbow.

"Shut up Harry!" I snapped at him.

"I don't even _know_ my damn parents, Hermione," he replied sternly, trying to keep his temper under control. "I'd just be a bloody disappointment to them." He mumbled.

"You're a rotten selfish git Ronald Weasley!" I yelled at him and shoved my chair back abruptly. "Mr and Mrs Bridges, thank you very much for dinner, it was lovely. But if you'd excuse me, I have to go!" With that I turned and raced out of the door, vaguely hearing someone call my name behind me. I didn't stop or go back, just merely paused in the middle of the farm yard long enough to disapparate directly back to the B&amp;B with tears streaming down my face.

Back in that stinky old room, I threw myself down on the bed, cursing him under my breath as I sobbed and sobbed. How cruel was it to finally find him and then only to find out he expected me to let him go again? How could he even suggest such a thing? Why was life so cruel to me?


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you as always for your wonderful reviews - they make me smile._

_Here's a slightly longer chapter for you...sorry, I don't intend to make this easy for them!_

_Usual disclaimers apply. Just borrowing your world Ms Rowling._

**Chapter Six**

Harry had followed me back to the B&amp;B a short while later and tried to get me to talk to him about what had happened and what wreckage I had left in my wake. But, I ignored him and continued to sob. Truth be told, I was annoyed with him too – he could have backed me up a bit there, reminded Ron that he had a family who still cared and loved him whether he remembered them or not. But no, all he'd done was nudge me and act like a prat trying to get me to shut up. In the end, he gave up, heading home to sleep with his wife and left me to my tears.

I woke early the next morning, after a night of fitful, restless sleep and lay in bed ruminating over the night before. I felt slightly embarrassed of my outburst, but then, what did he expect? How could he be so callous and…uncaring. Whether or not he remembered his parents and family, didn't they deserve to know he was okay? That he wasn't, in fact, dead. Didn't he once consider that they might like to hear the truth about what had happened to him? I didn't regret calling him selfish for a second, because last night, he had been.

I lay in bed thinking for awhile, just gazing at the sun patterns dancing across the ceiling through a gap in the curtains. At least until I smelt the stench of breakfast being cooked downstairs and my stomach recoiled. I think the old woman used about a pound of fat to fry in and whatever she was frying didn't smell much like bacon or eggs to me.

I quickly got dressed and rushed downstairs, out of the B&amp;B before I had a run in with old Mrs Wilson. I wasn't going to be interrogated as to why I didn't want her breakfast.

Heading away from the village, I wandered aimlessly down a country road, wrapped up in my own thoughts and not taking any notice of where I was heading, until I arrived at the small cove. It wasn't really big enough to be called a beach – just a small stretch of sand and a lot of jagged rocks jutting out. The weather was nice, the sun already shining for this early in the morning, so I took a seat on one of the rocks and heaved a huge sigh.

Was I just kidding myself being here? I mean, that I could win my husband back? That somehow after two years of him knowing nothing, I would be able to restore his memory to full order? What was I thinking? He'd made a new life for himself here, he had new friends I supposed as well. Why would he want to leave all that for something he didn't know nor remember? I knew it was daunting for him…but, couldn't he at least consider how it was for those he left behind?

Of course, he didn't know I was his wife, he didn't know he had two small children who missed their daddy. I was just an old school friend, looking up a long lost friend as far as he was concerned. Maybe this was a mistake in coming here, I was just going to finish up hurt and broken hearted all over again? Wasn't I? I almost wished Kevin had never told Harry he'd seen Ron, that we never knew any of this. I had just started to grasp some semblance of a life back. Now it was all going to be cruelly yanked away from me as I lost my husband all over again.

So lost in my own thoughts and busy watching a seagull attacking a piece of seaweed, I never heard him walk up behind me. He silently sat down on another rock close by and I pretended I hadn't seen him.

"Harry said you might be out here," he eventually spoke after some minutes.

I snorted with derision. So, Harry was back in the village then. Alright for him, going home to his wife and family every night and not having his life turned upside down for the second time in two years. The minute the thought entered my head I felt like such a horrid person – none of this was Harry's fault. He'd lived a life of uncertainty for 17 years of his life, he deserved the happiness he had now. And yet he was still here, supporting me.

"I apparated out here," Ron continued to mutter. "Weird, not done that since before the accident I suppose. Well, we barely use magic anymore, so…"

"That was rather stupid!" I commented.

"Huh? What?" he asked.

"It was rather stupid of you to use apparition when you're out of practice. Could have finished up splinching yourself…again," I sighed.

Ron just looked at me for a moment before giving a snort. "Make a habit of that, do I?" he wondered aloud.

I nodded. "First time it was just half an eyebrow. Second time you almost lost your arm. I hate to think of the damage you inflicted on yourself when you apparated into that old barn."

He just shrugged and looked over himself. "Well, I seem to be all together this time." He chuckled once. I didn't find it amusing. "Erm…anyway. I was looking for you in the village. I just…I wanted to apologise for whatever it was I said or did last night that upset you."

"You honestly don't know?" I looked at him, gob smacked.

"Well, okay…I have an idea, I suppose," he admitted sheepishly, toying with his hands. "Though, I don't really understand why you got all upset about that. I mean…we can keep in touch, we can still be friends now. I just…there's nothing for me in that life anymore."

"How the hell can you say that?" I jumped off my rock and turned on him. "You don't remember what you left behind…you…"

"Look!"he held up his hands in defence, as though he expected me to hit him. "This is all just a bit confusing for me…you talk about these people and places, yet I don't remember anything about any of them. You have to understand what that's like for me."

"And you have to understand what it's been like for m…all of us, spending the last two years thinking you were dead. Your mother thinking her son had been killed."

"I know it must've been tough, but…it's not my fault. I never asked for any of this."

"And you think we did? Just because it's hard for you and confusing and might be a little awkward you think it's alright for your loved ones not to know you're okay? To continue thinking they lost you?

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know." he mumbled quietly. "I just…I don't know how to be that person anymore. How to be their son, or brother. I'll just be a disappointment to them, I'm not the person they remember. So maybe," he sighed deeply. "Maybe it _would_ be better for them, if…they just continued to think I _was_ dead."

"Huh," I scoffed and sat back down on my rock, folding my arms tightly.

"Now what?" he asked, sounding a touch exasperated. He had no idea!

"Well, if I ever needed proof that you really don't remember anything, that was it!"

"What are you talking about?" he frowned at me.

"If you remembered anything, you'd know that anything is better than thinking someone you love is dead. You'd know how much you just wish on everything you have for just one more second with that person, just to hold them one more time. You'd know what it was like to lose your entire world, to feel like a part of you has been ripped away."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." He was quiet for a few seconds. "You must have lost someone pretty important to you."

I nodded, a lone tear rolling down my cheek. "I did. I lost the very most important person in my life. The one I thought would always be there by my side through everything. My entire world and the meaning for my happiness. I lost my everything, my person." I looked up at him and dashed my tears away as more joined. "I lost him almost two years ago. He disappeared you see. _You _disappeared…_my_ husband."

He didn't speak or move for the longest time, the silence only broken by the waves crashing upon the shore and the seagull giving a loud caw as it gave up on the seaweed and flew away. I looked up at his face, he'd gone pale, his mouth hung open and he stared out blindly into the horizon. Just as I was beginning to wonder if he'd even heard me, he spoke.

"Hang on…did you say, hus...husband?" he swallowed thickly.

"Yes," I nodded, keeping an eye on him. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything…I hadn't meant to, but he'd just got me so riled, I needed him to understand why this was so upsetting for me, that this wasn't all about him. But, he looked as though he'd been stupefied and I searched my brain for the counter-charm for shock.

"You…you mean," he looked up at me, his eyes full of bewildered emotion. "That you…me. That we're…married?" Both of his eyebrows raised sharply into his fringe as though he'd only just understood what I meant.

"Yes," I answered him quietly, carefully. "You're my husband Ron."

"Merlin's bollocks!" he gasped and pushed off from his rock, storming across the beach, kicking at pebbles.

I let him vent for a few minutes, knowing I had shocked him. I think I was beginning to grasp just how daunting this all was for him. He went from having no one, knowing nothing, to discovering he had two best mates, and now a wife in a matter of days. "Are you okay?" I called after a little while. He had stopped and was just staring out over the sea, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"No I'm bloody not!" he snapped. "How…why…I can't believe this," he shook his head and slowly made his way back to me. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, now standing about a couple of feet away from me.

"I didn't want to overwhelm you," I shrugged and gave him a small smile. "I'm sorry."

He ran his hands into his hair, grasping a handful of the fiery locks. "How long?" He then looked at me.

I inhaled deeply. "Last weekend was our seventh anniversary."

His eyes widened and he turned away. I thought he was going to rampage across the beach again, but he just sat down heavily in the sand. "Seven years," he muttered to himself a few times. Slowly, I made my way over to him, sitting in a spot on the sand across from him. "So, all that about us being best friends in school, was that a ruse?"

"No," I shook my head. "We _were_ best friends, I mean, we still are…were, before," I shook my head, confusing myself. No wonder he was having such a hard time with this. "We've always been friends Ron, at least after the troll incident, and give or take a few stubborn weeks when we'd barely speak after a silly falling out. But, we also spent those seven years of school falling in love. Or maybe it just took us seven years to admit our feelings for each other and do anything about it," I confessed.

Ron picked up a discarded twig and began to dig in the sand with it. "I sorta, well, I thought that you and Harry…might, you know," he looked up at me briefly, before jabbing the twig into the sand again.

"Me and Harry?" I asked in alarm. "Oh no…never. I mean…he's my best friend too, but my feelings for him have always been the way you feel about a sibling. Harry is like a brother to me and he says he's always considered me his adopted sister. Besides, he's married to your little sister."

"My sister?" He turned his head sharply and snapped the stick in two. "He's with my sister?"

"Yes, and they're very happy together. We got married the same year actually. But, no.. I've never felt anything…romantic for Harry. It was always you," I whispered, hugging my knees to my chest, casting furtive sideways glances at him.

Looking down at the broken twig in his hands, he tossed it away and began kicking the sand with the heal of his boot, creating a hole. I briefly wondered if he was making some lame attempt to escape. "Seven years," he shook his head again. "How can I not remember that?"

I shrugged sadly, not knowing what to say – I wanted the answer to that myself. "I wish you did," I merely muttered. And then an idea came to me, I grabbed my bag and began rummaging in it's vast depths for something. "Here," I finally pulled out what I had been searching for. "This was taken on our wedding day. It's one of my favourite photos," I handed him the portrait. In the picture we only had eyes for one another, laughing together as he took my hands in his and kissed my knuckles lightly, before leaning in for a sweet kiss.

His eyes widened as he looked at it, the photo shaking in his nervous hands, unable to deny I was telling him the truth now. "We look happy," he commented, before handing it back to me. The photo seemed to unnerve him. It was the first physical proof he had seen of a life before all this, that he did have a past.

"We were," I sighed, looking at the photo myself and brushing a piece of sand off of it. "It was a beautiful day, one of the best days of my life. Only, the night before I hadn't been so sure it would be. It had been pouring with rain and I was so upset that our day would be ruined. But, you calmed me down…told me it didn't matter what the weather threw at us, we'd been through worse. The only thing that mattered was that I would be there to become your wife and you promised to be waiting for me at the alter, even if we had thunder, snow, rain and hurricanes all at the same time!" I laughed at the memory. "You also told me I could wear a house elfs' tea towel and carry a bunch of nettles for all you cared, you just wanted to become my husband."

Ron was sat listening to me in silence, but smiled weakly as I reminisced about our wedding day. It wasn't something I had allowed myself to think about too much recently, the memories were too bitter-sweet.

"Seven years," he mumbled to himself again. "So…we only actually enjoyed five years of marriage then?" He realised. "Before I, well, you know," he shrugged.

"Five years and a few months," I smiled. "And we had five years together before that. I mean, after the war, when we finally gave in to our feelings and became a couple."

"Huh, I took my time about proposing then," he grinned wryly.

I shook my head and returned his grin. "You proposed at exactly the right time. We were engaged about 18 months before we actually got married. Which was my fault, I made us wait because I had my heart set on a May wedding."

He merely nodded. "Was I good husband then?" he wondered.

I smiled widely. "The best. I mean, we were very happy together, although we had our silly fights and that, but that's just the way we are. But, we had a good life. Totally in love and happy and…"

"Do we have any kids?" he suddenly asked me, quietly, digging in the sand again with another twig he'd found. He seemed nervous of the answer.

"Yes," I nodded gently. "We do. We have a son and a daughter."

He looked up at me wide eyed. "Bloody hell," he whispered.

"Rosie, Rose, is five in a few months. Hugo just turned two in January. He was only eight months old when you went missing. Rose was almost three, she understood more what was happening, why Mummy was so sad and that you weren't coming back. But, she remembers you and talks about you a lot. I know they both miss their daddy…we have photos all over the house, but…"

Ron stood abruptly, cutting me off. He dropped the stick and clawed at his hair, beginning to pace again. "Merlin's bollocks," he muttered again, kicking a rock angrily – it flew in an arc and landed in the sea with a loud splash. "This…this is all too much Hermione. I…I'm sorry, I just…I can't," he rambled. "I can't do this," he whispered again with a shake of his head. And before I could even stand up to stop him, he'd taken out his wand, spun around and disapparated away.

It was a few minutes later that Harry came sauntering up the lane towards me. "Hey!" he shouted. "I knew you'd be down here. Good place to think, huh?" He continued as he wandered closer and climbed over the rocks towards me. "Oh, did Ron find you? He came to…Hermione, what's wrong? What happened?" He began to panic and scrambled over the rest of the rocks towards me.

I lifted my head from my knees, tears pouring down my face and sniffed loudly. "Oh Harry…I think I ruined everything!" I wailed, and buried my face again.

"Whatever happened?" He looked worried as he sat down crossed legged in the sand beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I…might have let slip that he was my husband and that we have kids together," I grimaced and then buried my head again. I knew it had been a mistake to tell him yet. I hadn't really meant to. Or had I? Maybe I had been expecting a completely different reaction. I was such a fool!

"Well, how did he take it?" Harry asked, dumbly.

I looked up at him as though he was stupid. "How do you think?" I snapped. "He freaked out and buggered off on me," I groaned and wiped my eyes furiously. "I thought he was okay at first, he was asking me questions about it, he seemed to want to know. Then…he just changed, began to freak out and disapparated away."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad." Harry began, handing me a tissue from his pocket.

"You didn't see his face!" I blew my nose loudly.

"Yeah, but, this is Ron, this is what he does. Something overwhelms him or he gets scared and he runs away. He has to stew for a while, think it over by himself. But, he comes back, he always comes back, you know that."

"Maybe _our_ Ron did. I'm not so sure this bloke is anything like him."

"Hermione…you know he is. It's all there inside him, we just have to find a way to unlock that. He'll get over this, he'll think about it and he'll come back. I mean, he had to find out eventually, right?"

I inhaled deeply. "I suppose," I mumbled, in a huff.

"See, it's not that bad." he gave me a one armed hug.

I shrugged, unconvinced as I began tidying myself up. "Harry, where are my children? I need to be with them right now," I whispered, tucking escaped tendrils of hair back into my plait and finding another tissue from my bag to clean up my face.

"Oh, erm…they're with Molly. They stayed there last night. I'm afraid James fell out with Rose or something…I'm not entirely sure what happened between them, but she refused to go home with Ginny last night. James has become rather a bossy little sod since he turned six, he thinks he's so grown up and I've had to punish him for pushing his brother around. I'm sorry." He looked totally mortified that his son had upset my daughter.

"Don't worry. My little girl is as tough and as stubborn as her Mother. She probably gave as good as she got." I stood up and draped my bag over my arm. "Anyway, I am going to go and spend the day with my kids and escape this madness for awhile. So…I'll see you later?" I checked.

He nodded. "I'll catch up with you later. Probably go spend the day with my kids," he decided. "Send me an owl or a patronus if you need me, yeah?"

"Thanks Harry," I muttered, unable to tell him how grateful I was for everything he was doing for me. But, I suspected he had a good idea. Taking my wand from my bag, I gave a furtive glance around, before turning on the spot and disapparating to my mother-in-laws.

* * *

I could hear the laughter and the innocent, incessant childish chatter the second I arrived in the garden at The Burrow. I smiled, heading for the kitchen door. Being with my children was what I needed right now, a few hours to just be Mummy again and not think about everything else going on – they were my solace and the greatest distraction you ever needed.

"Mummy!" Rosie squealed as I stepped into the kitchen. She hopped down from the table and rushed over to me, clinging to my legs tightly. "I miss you!" she told me, gazing up at me adoringly.

"I missed you too honey," I picked her up, balancing her on my hip before I kissed her cheek and breathed her in. Yes, this was exactly what I needed. Children might be a lot of work and cause stress sometimes, but they were also rather cathartic.

"I miss too Mummy!" Hugo grinned at me, waving his paint brush in the air and causing a few splatters of paint to land in his hair and all over the kitchen.

"Careful honey," I kissed his mop of ginger hair and hugged him to me.

He pushed me away after a moment and continued his painting. "Look, I paint dwagon!" he told me, flourishing his brush on the paper. Painting was one of Hugo's favourite activities, particularly with this brand of paint. Since he'd become a dad himself, George had created a more child friendly line of toys in his shop. This paint was charmed so that anything the children painted actually moved on the paper, a little like an animation in the Muggle world.

"That's beautiful sweetheart," I kissed him again, before sitting beside him with Rose on my lap. "Where's your Grandma?" I asked.

"Hermione!" she suddenly appeared from the stairs. "I wondered what the children were squealing about. I just nipped upstairs to find Rosie's bunny, she was getting upset," she added to me in a stage whisper. "There you are poppet, she was still tucked up in bed." She handed my daughter the same bedraggled stuffed pink rabbit she'd had since a baby. It had seen better days, the ear had been sewn back on more times than I could remember and the fur was bare in places, but she wouldn't let it go for anything.

"Thank you Gwandma," she whispered, hugging her bunny and laying her head on my chest, her painting activity forgotten about.

"Tea?" Molly asked, already filling the kettle.

"Perfect," I sighed.

"And then you can tell me about it," she smiled, knowingly. "When I first saw you here, I half expected him to be with you."

I shook my head sadly. "It's going to take some time." I sighed.

"How is he? I mean…really? Harry and Ginny tried to tell me, but, besides myself, I expect you know him better than anyone." She set the pot of tea down on the table along with two mugs, then busied herself getting the children some pumpkin juice.

"He's…" I sighed again, whilst pouring the tea. "Well, physically he's fine. I mean…apart from a shorter haircut and a lot more freckles from working outside so much, he looks exactly the same. Oh, but he's got a bit of beard thing going on," I laughed. Molly smiled endearingly. "It's just…it's hard," I admitted. "But, when you really look at him, in his eyes I mean, he seems very lost."

"He needs his family," she stated, patting my shoulder. "And how are you feeling?" She was the first person to ask me that and I almost burst into tears. "Oh, lovey." She rushed around the table to hug me. Concerned for her Mum, Rose scrambled off my lap and sat staring at me from the chair beside me.

"It's okay sweetheart," I assured her, "Mummy's just tired." I kissed her head as Molly summoned the biscuit tin to the table and gave them both a freshly baked biscuit to distract them. "I guess I'm confused." I began as Molly sat down opposite me. "It's so hard seeing him and he not remembering me or knowing who I am. This morning I stupidly let on about who I was…and about these two," I nodded towards the children, happily munching on biscuits and leaving crumbs all over the table. I was glad they were so easily distracted and barely interested in our conversation. "It totally freaked him out."

"I suppose it would. Finding that out when you remembered nothing of your past." She took a biscuit herself and offered me the tin. I dug in hungrily, having avoided breakfast.

"I think part of me expected it all to come flooding back to him when I told him. I even showed him our photo, and nothing. I was so disappointed. I mean, I have all these emotions for him, none of it's changed, I feel exactly the same way about him and my heart leaps every time he looks at me. It's almost like being back at school when I was hopelessly in love with him and he hadn't a clue," I smiled wryly at my mother-in-law. "Though at least then we were good friends, now I'm a virtual stranger to him and that's hard to deal with, to realise he doesn't remember our love. I just….I want him back, all of him. Complete and whole and happy again." I sniffed back a tear and gave her a watery smile.

Molly offered me a supportive smile across the table and squeezed my hand. "We'll get him back, love. We won't give up on him," she promised.

Without mentioning his name, we talked a little more about him and what my plans were. To be honest, I hadn't a clue – I was winging this whole thing in the hope he'd suddenly remember. The children were absorbed in their painting again and ignored the adults talking, thankfully. I didn't want to have to lie to them if they asked me who this person was we were talking about. As it was, Rose gave me a few curious glances.

Whilst Hugo took his mid-morning nap, I took Rose for a walk into the village. There, without the interference of magic, I could ring my Mum on my mobile phone and let her know we wouldn't need her this afternoon. I'd forgotten all about that until Molly reminded me. I just told her I had a few days off work, but I would come over in a couple of days for a chat. Instantly she started to think something was wrong, and it was awhile before I managed to have her convinced everything was fine. In the village shop, I bought Rose an ice lolly and also took a packet of Muggle sweets back for Hugo.

Anxious of what I might run into when I got back, I kept putting off returning to Woldsea without fully comprehending that I was doing so. Lunch came and went before I knew it. I spent the sunny afternoon in the garden with the children, reading with Rosie, studying bugs with Hugo and laughing at the antics of Molly's cat chasing the gnomes around the garden. Soon enough it was dinnertime and I had still made no motion to leave. Arthur was surprised to find me in the kitchen when he got home from work and I had to endure another difficult conversation as he was naturally curious about his youngest son, asking me similar questions to his wife and when they'd get to see him. It pained me to tell them I didn't know, that it was just going to take time.

"Mummy, you be here tomorrow?" Rose asked me that night as I tucked her up in bed in her Aunt Ginny's old room. She looked up at me imploringly, clutching onto her scruffy little bunny under the sheets.

"I might not be here in the morning, but I promise I will come and spend some time with you again. We can play, and maybe take another walk," I promised her with a kiss to her forehead.

Her bottom lip wobbled slightly and she began rubbing her nose with the bunny's soft ears – a comforting habit of her. "I promise sweetheart, I'll be here some time tomorrow," I hugged her as I perched on the side of the bed. I was only now beginning to understand, not only how much she missed me, but that she was unnerved by all this. She had become such an inquisitive little girl and she just seemed to know when something was wrong. I had such a strong bond with my children and, whilst the reason behind that broke my heart, it was also something I cherished – I loved them more than anything.

"You pwomise?" she asked, her eyes full of tears,

"Cross my heart," I kissed her again. "Now, let's ready a story, but we'll have to be quiet as your brother is already asleep," I glanced across at the other bed in the room. He had fallen asleep within seconds of me putting him to bed – it seemed an afternoon of looking for bugs and chasing gnomes wore him out. I smiled as I gazed at him, buried under his sheets with his bottom in the air – the way he'd always slept as a baby – and just the top of his mop of ginger hair peeking out along with the red nose of the stuffed dragon he always slept with.

With both children now settled, the pull to return to Ron was hard to deny. I wasn't even sure if there was anything for me there anymore or whether I had totally ruined everything. But, something told me I had to go back – even now I didn't have the strength to stay away from the boy who'd held my heart captive since I was about 12 years old. Once Rose had fallen asleep, I kissed both of my children and crept downstairs to say goodnight to Molly and Arthur. Molly tried to convince me to stay the night, but I felt I needed to get back and after assuring them I'd be by the following day, I headed back to the village of Woldsea.

"Oh, there you are love," Mrs Bridges made me jump as I stepped out from behind the hedge after apparating back into the garden at the B&amp;B. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I've just been waiting ages and was about to give up," she smiled.

"Waiting for me?" I asked, nervously. Had something happened? My heart sped up as I eyed the old lady sat on the small metal bench in the front garden.

"Come, sit with me a few moments." She moved up to make room for me.

I sat down with some trepidation, wondering what she was going to tell me. Maybe she was angry I'd upset her Roland. No doubt he'd gone back to the house in rather a state. Silence fell between us for a moment whilst we sat in the cool summer evening air. "So," she began. "You've been gone most of the day?" she made it sound like a question.

"Erm, yes. I spent the day with….well, I assume that Ron, Roland," I corrected myself to the name she knew him as. "I assume he told you the revelation I dropped on him this morning?"

She nodded with a quiet smile. "Yes…I knew something had happened when he returned from the village, forgetting the shopping I'd asked him to fetch and looking as though he'd seen a ghost."

I hung my head, feeling bad for causing him further distress. "I've been with my children," I whispered for way of an explanation.

"He told me about them…Rose and Hugo, isn't it?"

I nodded and smiled at her, thinking of my babies. As well as feeling a slight thrill that he'd remembered their names, that maybe they meant something. "Yes. They miss me, they're not used to me being away overnight and, especially my eldest, she gets a little anxious."

"Then it's good that you could be with them," she patted my hand that rested on my thigh. "To be honest, I was much less surprised than he was, when he told me."

"You were?" I looked up at her in surprise.

She nodded. "I suspected there was much more than simply a couple of old friends tracking him down, even as close friends as you there were. It was just in the way you looked at him, as well as how grateful you were to me for healing him and keeping him safe. Your eyes gave it all away my dear." Her hand still on mine squeezed gently. "So, Harry is…?"

"Harry is our best friend. He's always been like a brother to me…and he's been such a support to me and the children through all this, even though he missed Ron terribly as well. Those two have been thick as thieves since the very second they met," I smiled, remembering that time I'd barged into their compartment on the Hogwarts Express searching for an escapee toad.

"He's lucky to have you both. He's going to need his friends and loved ones."

"Is…is Ron, I mean Roland, okay? I know he was rather upset and shocked when he left me. And I hadn't meant to tell him yet, but…I got cross with him and it all slipped out."

She smiled kindly. "You can call him Ron, you've known him as that far longer than I've been calling him Roland. But, try not to worry too much about him, he'll be okay. He is confused and overwhelmed with everything, not just about what you told him today, but everything that's happened the last few days. The first few months after the accident, he was very frustrated at not knowing anything and he'd have a lot of nightmares. Then, he seemed to just accept it and get on with the way things were. Now, you've showed up and, I'm not going to claim to understand what he's going through or what goes on in his head. He's mostly a quiet person and doesn't talk about himself much. But I've noticed him brooding about it a lot, especially after this last revelation. That one seems to have really made it real to him that he does have a past. You need to talk to him."

"I don't think I know how anymore." I admitted. "He's my husband…the only man I have ever loved. Yet, he doesn't really know who I am. I can tell him anything, but it's not going to change that or the last two years we lost."

"I know this must be very hard for you, the deep love you have for him is obvious. And I can't begin to imagine what you've been through these last couple of years, the thought of losing Max leaves me with such dread. But…just be patient with him, it's only been a few days, you have to give him time. Besides, I truly believe that although his mind might not remember you, I'm pretty sure his heart and soul does. And he'll figure that out in time." She smiled and squeezed my hand again.

And there it was, that glimmering spark of hope was ignited again. I so wanted to believe what she was telling me…so wanted it to be true, that in time his heart would remind his head about me. But, I was almost afraid to let myself believe it.

"Now, the main reason I was looking for you. Max and I would like to invite you to stay at the farm with us all."

"Oh, no. I couldn't, really…" I began to protest.

"Don't be silly. There's no need for you to stay in this old place," she nodded her head to the house behind us. "Believe me, I know what a battleaxe old Mrs Wilson is, and her cooking leaves much to be desired. So, we insist. We have plenty of room and it would be lovely to have you. Be nice to have a girl to chat with whilst the boys are busy. And…well, it might help Ron to have you under the same roof, have you close by?" She suggested, knowing that would be the winning factor.

My heart leapt at the thought of sleeping under he same roof as Ron again, of being so close to him. So close and yet so far. "Well, okay then, if you insist. Would be nice to get out of this place." I looked at the B&amp;B behind me. "I have to visit my children again tomorrow though. Rosie is a little upset and I promised her, I can't break my promise."

"Of course you can't my dear. Well, now that that's settled, you just come over whenever you're ready. We'll be there."

* * *

The following morning, I cheerfully checked out of the B&amp;B for good and bid Mrs Wilson goodbye before heading to The Burrow to spend the morning with my children. Whilst there, I flooed with Harry to let him know I was going to be staying at the farm for now.

"So, if you want…you can leave me to it now and return to your family," I offered.

"Are you sure?" he checked. "I mean, I don't mind hanging around."

"Harry, you've done more than enough. I just, I think I need to spend some time alone with him, we need to talk. I think staying at the farm, being close and spending some real time together will be good for him."

"Well, if that's what you want. But, if you need me for anything, just owl me or whatever and I can be right there. Anything."

"Thanks Harry." I smiled at him through the fireplace. "I think I'll be okay though. It's only Ron…he's a moody swine sometimes, but he's not that scary!" I laughed. "But really, thank you so much for everything these last few days, last couple of years..."

Harry held his hand up to stop me. "You know I'd do anything for you. Well, let me know how things go, and…good luck. I suppose I'd best head back to work then," he grimaced at the idea. "Kinda liked having this week off," he laughed.

I smiled at that, but it also made me wonder how much longer I could stay off work myself. "Thanks again. I'll see you soon."

"Okay. Take care…and remember to keep me posted."

With that decided, I could concentrate on enjoying a happy morning with Rosie and Hugo. Feeling bad for neglecting them I gave in to any whim they wanted or any treat they asked for, so that I found myself eating ice cream with them well before lunchtime and hunting dragons with my son whilst telling Rosie a story about a Princess kept prisoner by a mean old dragon – Hugo thought that was brilliant.

In the end, after having so much fun, I arrived at Apple Tree farm sometime after lunch and found Mildred in the kitchen, busy at the stove stirring something in a pan with a big wooden spoon. It was similar to the scene I'd just left at The Burrow with Molly.

"There you are pet." She turned and smiled as I knocked once on the half open stable style door before entering. "Beginning to think you had changed your mind."

"Sorry," I set my bag down. "I was with the kids…it's getting harder to leave them. Rose was almost in tears and I hate to make them cry." I confessed.

"Poor little mites," she shook her head. "Losing their daddy like that."

"Is…is he here?" I wondered, looking around the kitchen as though he might walk in through a door at any moment.

"Oh no, he's gone to the cattle market with Max today. He's getting too old for this farm really…so he's gone to sell off some of the younger cows. We'll just keep the older ones on for dairy farming for now. So, the pair of us can have a nice girly afternoon," she smiled and returned to her pan. "Sorry, got to keep a close eye on this," she apologised for continuing with her cooking. "We get so much milk, I make a lot of home-made things. Making yoghurt right now, Max loves it, I personally can't stand the stuff." She screwed her nose up.

"No, Ron doesn't like it either."

"I've noticed!" she laughed.

"There's not much he doesn't like though," I added,

"I've noticed that as well," she smiled. "At least he remembers his appetite!"

I spent a good afternoon with Mildred, chatting as I helped her prepare the yoghurt. It was a long and tedious process of waiting for the milk to heat up to the correct temperature and then waiting for it to go down to the right temperature to add the active cultures. I'd never attempted to make it before, now I knew why. I suspected even with the aid of magic it wouldn't be simple.

With three pints of natural yoghurt made, we took a tea break before beginning to make a start on dinner – the boys would no doubt be hungry when they got in from a long day at the market. Well, I knew my husband would be – he was always hungry!

"Would you like to see a photo of the children?" I suddenly asked Mildred as I set my teacup down on the table.

"I would love to!" She set her own cup down and waited anxiously as I rummaged in my bag for the family portrait.

"This was taken shortly before he went missing. Hugo was seven months old there and Rose a few months shy of turning three," I explained. Hugo sat on my lap, screaming at the camera and clambering up me away from it. Rose sat on her Dad's lap, both of them laughing whilst I struggled with the baby and tried to smile for the camera.

"My goodness," she gasped, watching the animation in the photo. "Even if I didn't know, it's obvious they're his children, they both look so much like him," she smiled.

"They both have his beautiful hair. Rose has my eyes, but Hugo has his dad's eye. They take after their dad a lot, they're fun and kind and very loving. Though, both can be very stubborn and Rose is becoming rather bossy, a bit like me," I grimaced. "But, they're good kids really."

"They're certainly beautiful children," she commented. "This must be hard for you all. Do they know?" she wondered. And I knew what she meant, did they know I had found their daddy, that he was still alive.

I shook my head. "I don't want to confuse them yet, I mean…if this doesn't work out. And with the way Rose is being, I'm thinking that unless I can convince Ron to come home with me very soon, I'm going to have to go back to them and just hope he'll eventually follow or something," I sighed, feeling defeated.

"There, there pet," she patted my shoulder. "He'll come around, just give him time. I'll be sad to see him gone though," she admitted with a little sigh and studied the photo again. "I'd almost forgot about the magical photos." she gave another sigh. "Sometimes, I do miss using magic and that whole world. I wonder, with Max getting older, whether it's time to move back." she added.

"Well…I'd do anything I could to help," I offered.

Quite suddenly we were interrupted by a loud crash in the yard and then the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the door. Before I had chance to move or do anything, Ron was ambling in the door and kicking off his boots. He looked up at me, sat at the kitchen table, startled to find me there and then glanced down at the photo still lying on the table. I quickly shoved it away in my bag. I didn't want to upset him all over again.

He merely muttered something unintelligible and hurried upstairs, barely glancing at me again. He returned about half an hour later, freshly showered, his hair still damp, and his clothes changed after a day at the market.

"Tea Ron?" Mildred asked, holding up the teapot after pouring one for her husband.

"Please," he mumbled and took the seat furthest away from me and then did a double take at Mildred. "How come you're calling me that?" he suddenly noticed.

"Well, it is your name, pet," she smiled patiently, pouring him a cup.

Ron grunted and drank his tea in silence.

"Anyway, Hermione is going to be staying here with us now. No point in her being at that miserable B&amp;B," she continued. Ron looked up and glared at me, as though this was all my idea just to aggravate him. I was utterly mortified she hadn't at least warned him I was moving in for a little while. "So, I hope that will be okay?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him. As though daring him to have a problem with it.

"Yeah, fine, whatever," he mumbled and slurped some more tea.

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair that night. Ron barely spoke to anyone and I only answered questions when I was asked. Mainly I listened as Max filled us in on their successful day at the cattle market.

"Where's Harry?" Max noticed he was missing. Ron looked up at that, only just noticing for himself I presumed.

"Oh, he had to get back to work. And, you know, his own family. But, he'll probably be visiting," I finished.

Max nodded and finished his dinner, before starting to recite a rather long and amusing farming anecdote he'd heard from another farmer that day – something about a cow that kept kicking over the bucket of milk, so the farmer tied the cows legs up and it all went to pot when he used his belt to keep the cows tail out of the way, the farmers trousers fell down just as his wife walked in. We all laughed, even Ron cracked a smile at that little tale.

Ron excused himself early that night and headed up to his room, claiming he was tired. After helping to wash up and tidy away after our meal, Mildred led me upstairs and into the room I would be staying in. It was small with a low ceiling and exposed wooden beams. A comfortable looking single bed sat beside the window that looked out over a beautiful landscape of green pastures and gentle rolling hills. She explained we were in the Lincolnshire Wolds out here, that most of the county was flat, but we were lucky here.

"It's lovely," I smiled, setting my bag down on the bed and glancing around the room. A small wardrobe and chest of drawers, a bedside table and a rocking chair in the corner finished the room.

"Well, I hope you'll be comfortable. I put fresh sheets on the bed. And the bathroom is just across the hall. And…don't worry about Ron, pet. He'll get over it, I'm sure."

"I can't believe you didn't tell him I was staying," I whispered.

"Well, no point in giving him something else to stew about, was there? You're here now and he'll have to get used to it. Anyway, I'll leave you to get settled. Goodnight pet," she patted my shoulder and quietly left the room.

I sat on the bed with a huge sigh, glancing around the little room again. Before I got up, closed the curtains on the view and began getting myself ready for bed.

Sometime during the night, I woke disorientated as I squinted in the darkness. It was some moments before I remembered where I was and then realised I needed to get up to use the bathroom. The hallway was dark and I fumbled along, looking for the loo. Not having my bearings at all, I suddenly bumped into something large and solid. Reaching my hand out, I realised it was another person.

"Erm...sorry," I whispered as I looked up at who I had bumped into and realised it was Ron. He had been heading back to his room from the bathroom. He was naked, except for a pair of green boxer shorts. A flush stole my cheeks as I took in his chest, scattered with tiny little freckles. I forced my eyes back to his.

His eyes widened and as he hadn't shut off the bathroom light yet, there was enough light now coming from the open door to betray the fact that his entire ears had gone red.

"I erm…I…" he stammered, and realising he was semi-naked, he tried to hide himself, folding his arms across his chest and tried to scoot past me into his room.

"Sorry," I whispered again.

He grunted, totally humiliated to be stood before me, a woman, in nothing but his underwear. He was turning redder by the minute. I felt grateful I'd pulled my pyjamas on tonight and not my short nightgown. "Bathrooms free," he muttered, waving his hand toward it and darting into his room. "Erm, night," he added, before closing his door firmly.

"Night," I smiled and laughed lightly to myself. Poor Ron, I shook my head as I continued to the bathroom. Mind you, as awkward as the situation might have been, I wasn't going to deny it had been nice to see his almost naked body again.


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I'm NOT JK Rowling, just a fan who loves this world (it's my happy place!)_

**Chapter Seven**

There was no sign of Ron when I ventured downstairs the next morning. Knowing he had never been a morning person and often found it a struggle to get up for school or work, I found it hard to believe he had already left for work and assumed he was avoiding me. But, then I wondered if perhaps this was the usual starting time for his job on the farm.

"Morning pet," Mildred greeted me. She was busying tidying the kitchen. "The boys got an early start this morning." she added. So I was right - he _was_ avoiding me! "Anyway, what would you like for breakfast?"

"Oh, erm…just tea and toast will be fine," I hovered, wanting to help or something. I felt a little uncomfortable having her wait on me. But, she seemed to enjoy it and insist I took a seat at the table.

As I ate my breakfast and chatted a little with Mildred, I decided that if Ron was being childish and avoiding me, then I wasn't going to spend the morning hanging around here waiting for him. So, once I finished and cleaned up after myself, I disapparated over to The Burrow to spend some carefree time with my children. Only, once I arrived Molly informed me that Rosie had had a nightmare last night and was rather sullen this morning. I knew this couldn't go on much longer. They'd already been spending nights without me for almost a week now. I made a decision there and then, another couple of days and I was coming home, with or without Ron. Even though that decision killed me.

Rosie soon forgot all about her upset with Mummy around though. We spent an enjoyable time paddling and splashing in the pond on the Weasley's property. We had a picnic lunch out in the sunshine and lazed around on the grass reading books and telling stories. After lunch, whilst Hugo took a nap, I again took Rosie for a walk into the village, during which she told me all the tales her brother had been getting up to – including escaping into the attic and scaring the ghoul that lived up there, rather than the other way around. He'd been asleep apparently (the ghoul that is) and Hugo had woken him suddenly. She thought that was hilarious, that her brother must be so scary as to frighten ghouls.

But still, when it was time for me to go, she became a little withdrawn again. She didn't understand why we just couldn't go home to our house and sleep in her own bed again. Why did she have to stay with Grandma anyway? And I tried to explain that Mummy had an important job to do and I wanted to tell her the truth, but, how could I? Why tell her about her daddy when he didn't seem sure he wanted to be a part of our lives anymore? It would be cruel to build up a little girls hopes, only to dash them again and I would never do that to either of them. In the end, Molly managed to placate her with the promise of her favourite dessert and perhaps a visit over to Bill and Fleur's the following day – she idolised her elder cousin, Victoire. So that by the time I left, she was smiling and looking forward to the morning.

Back at the farm however, her father was even more sullen than his daughter had been. He barely looked at me when he came in and sat down for dinner and he certainly didn't speak to me. Mildred and Max tried to keep the conversation flowing, but even they sensed the tension between us. Maybe I should just go home to my children and give him his space…let him decide things without me being here, because I didn't think my presence was helping anything. It all seemed so pointless – it's not like I could make him remember us and want us. Nor could I simply drag him home – he had to come to his own decision.

I went up to my room early that night, Ron and Max were playing a game of chess and I didn't want to intrude or make the atmosphere worse, so I left them all to it. I had been lying on my bed for almost an hour, reading, when a knock came at my door. Thinking it was probably just Mildred to check I was alright and give me another pep talk, I got up to answer it without thinking.

"Sorry, were you sleeping?" The figure of Ron asked me, his head down and shuffling his feet anxiously.

"No, I was just reading. Come in," I opened the door wide and returned to sit on my bed, moving the book for him to sit down.

He shuffled inside the door and closed it to behind him. I smiled up at him, trying not to look too eager, but I was thrilled he was here. "So, did you want something?" I asked after he'd stood there almost a minute without talking. He was wringing his hands now.

"I, erm…I was wondering," he began, mumbling his words. "That…that photo you had yesterday, with the kids. Could…could I see it?" he asked and finally looked up at me.

"Of course," I smiled and grabbed my bag to find the photo. Once I located it, I patted the bed beside me. He perched on the very end nervously as I handed it to him.

"Wow," he gasped, his eyes widening the minute he turned it over "He…he looks just like me," he mumbled to himself, tracing the animated image of his son.

"He does," I smiled. "You should see him now. Your Mum says he's the spitting image of you at that age," I looked over his shoulder at the squirming baby in the picture.

"He doesn't look too happy on this," he looked up at me and flinched away when he realised I had moved closer to him. I tried to ignore the action, telling myself it was only that I'd surprised him and not that I repulsed him.

"No, the poor guy was a little cranky that day. Your sister had just given birth to her third child, a girl. And there had been a celebration at your parents house. He was tired and hungry and the last thing he wanted was his photo taking." I laughed at the memory. "Mind you, he's such a little monkey these days. I don't know where he gets it from, well maybe your brothers," I thought of the twins. "But he sure keeps me on my toes." I told him and, encouraged by the way he was listening to me and gazing intently at the photo, I continued. "Just last week he got hold of your sisters wand, and somehow managed to hex himself, finished up with bugs crawling out of his nose. He thought it was hilarious!" I rolled my eyes and Ron cracked a smile. "He's been up to mischief at your mum's this week too, scaring ghouls and chasing gnomes in the garden. And he's completely and utterly obsessed with dragons. He told me once he wants to be a dragon when he's a big boy!" I laughed, and Ron chuckled lightly, still gazing at the photo.

"Yeah, he sounds a little character," he chuckled again. "And, what about…erm, Rose?" he asked, checking he had the right name. "What's she like?"

"Rose is…she's a special little girl," I began. "She's very wise for her age and we have such a close bond. After we…lost you, she became very protective of me and gets very serious sometimes. But she's such a loving and kind little girl, most of the time – she falls out with her brother a lot, and some of her cousins. Her and James seem to clash, he's Harry's eldest son," I explained. "They had some argument over a tea party the other day, he wasn't playing properly apparently," I added. "She likes girly things, very much into Princess' and my old collection of Muggle fairytale reading books. She loves books. And, the closer she gets to five years old, the bossier she's becoming," I laughed. "She probably takes after her mum a lot," I sighed.

"She's beautiful," he whispered. "I mean, they both are. But, Rose, she looks like you, besides the hair."

I felt my heart swell and my face flush, had he just inadvertently said that I was beautiful? Was there hope for us? "Yes," I agreed quickly. "They are. I'm…_we're_ very lucky." I gazed at the children on the photo and then back at Ron. He didn't seem to have noticed what he'd said before or that I'd just referred to me and him as 'we'.

"I'm sorry you know, that I freaked out the other day," he suddenly began.

I shrugged. "I suppose I should have expected that. It's a lot to take in after what you've been though. And I'm sorry I blurted it all out like that."

"It's just…" he sighed and set the photo down carefully beside me, turning to face me a little. "When you mentioned the kids…and how young they are and, well…it upset me. How could someone forget their own kids?" He looked up at me with such sad eyes I wanted to hold him and make it all better. "I've just missed out on so bloody much," he breathed. "I doubt Hugo even remembers me. My own son doesn't know who his dad is. And…I hate to think what they've had to go through. What you said about Rose understanding what had happened, having all that sadness…she didn't deserve that." He sniffed and I realised he was crying.

"Oh Ron," I reached out for him, my hand hovering, wanting to comfort him but not wanting to frighten him off. This was the most open he'd been since we'd found him. Eventually I patted his shoulder gently, deciding that was a safe area. "They're okay now. They got through it. Really, they're great kids."

"They sound amazing." He swiped the back of his hand under his nose and sniffed again. "You know…for awhile after the accident, I wondered if I had a family out there. If anyone was looking for me, if anyone was worried about me."

"We searched for weeks," I interrupted him.

"I know that now, but back then…I wondered about it a lot. And got disappointed when no one came for me."

"We couldn't find you, there was just no sign you were….alive. We did everything we could. None of us ever wanted to give up, especially not myself nor Harry – he continued looking for you well after they'd officially closed the case."

"He did?"

I nodded. "You're his best mate. He was lost without you."

"Anyway, after awhile I convinced myself that perhaps I'd just had such a horrid life before, that my past was too painful and that was why my memory had blocked it all. It sort of made sense to me that my mind would shut out what I assumed must be bad stuff and I could start a new life. I'd accepted that. Only, then you and Harry turned up."

"And this new life you had created for yourself was completely turned upside down?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I mean, I'm glad you found me, it's great to know I haven't always been alone, that I have been loved. But, it's also really hard to deal with, because apart from a few very scary and dangerous times in school, of which I don't think I have heard the worst of yet," he looked at me suspiciously.

"Erm, no." I admitted.

"Well, apart from all that, it seems I actually had a pretty good life before. I was happy…I had a beautiful family. So why the fuck can't I remember any of it?"

"Oh Ron,"I sighed. "I wish I could give you an answer, I really do."

"It just, it hurts, you know. Knowing I've missed out on all this, seeing my kids grow up. Hugo was just a baby, now he's coming up to three. I've missed out on having a family, people who love me, for all this time. It's so bloody unfair!"

"I know," I whispered and my hand that was still placed gently on his shoulder, slid around to his other and dared to pull him a little closer. In his sorrow, he allowed his head to fall onto my shoulder and he snuffled a little, crying softly against me. "I know how much it hurts…how rough the last two years have been. We missed you so much, I could barely function without you and I so wish these last two years had never happened." I blinked back my own tears and rubbed his back gently as he suddenly slid a hand around me and held me. It lasted for the briefest of seconds, but I felt as though I was home. Just to be in his arms again, to feel his warmth around me and to breathe in that familiar scent he still had about him, for just a second all seemed well with the world.

And then he pulled back, abruptly, as though he suddenly realised what he was doing. He turned his head and wiped his eyes on his sleeve, trying to hide his brief lapse of weakness from me. I wiped my own eyes with a mixture of sadness and hope, I could still feel his warmth surrounding me.

"I wasn't wearing a ring." He suddenly muttered, looking at his hands in his lap.

"Sorry, what was that?" I asked, still revelling in our brief embrace.

"When Max and Mildred found me, I wasn't wearing a wedding ring or anything. Did I? I mean, did I have one before? I suppose it might've got lost or…"

"Oh," I realised what he was getting at as I reached around the back of my neck. I unclasped the long chain I wore and pulled it from beneath my shirt. Dangling at the bottom was a gold wedding band. "Whenever you went away on a long mission, you always left it with me," I told him, looping the chain through the ring to free it. "You were always afraid of losing it or it being damaged, so…I looked after it for you, for safe keeping. I've worn it on this chain ever since," I whispered, handing him the golden band.

He took it from my palm and toyed with it in his fingers silently, turning it around and around, looking at the inscription inside, '_R+H=Always'_, and then trying it on his finger briefly. It was a little loose now, but it suited his hand perfectly, as though it belonged.

"Hermione," he suddenly asked, taking the ring off again and holding it tight in his fist. "What…what is it you expect to happen? You know, with us?" He looked up hesitatingly.

I sighed, playing with the now empty chain in my hand. "I don't know," I whispered honestly. "At least, not now. Oh, I have idealistic images of what I wish could happen, what I always hoped for. That you'd come home and we'd just pick up where we left off. We'd be happy together again, a complete family and make up for lost time," I chanced a look at his face, he looked concerned. "But, I think over the last couple of days, I've realised that that's not exactly a practical expectation. It's going to take time, it's going to be slow and I have to try and accept whatever happens. Even if I don't like it." I tried to smile for him, but the mere thought of this not turning out how I hoped was devastating to me.

Ron nodded slowly, thinking over what I'd said and then made to get up from the bed. "Can I keep this?" he asked, showing me the ring in his hand.

"Of course, it's belongs to you." I smiled at him.

He nodded gratefully. "And erm…would you mind, if I maybe, borrowed this?" he picked up the family photo still lying on the bed.

"No, that's fine. You can have it," I told him eagerly, anything that looked as though it was a step in the right direction I was going to grasp at it.

He picked it up and headed for the door. "Well…goodnight," he whispered.

"Ron," I stopped him. He turned, his hand on the doorknob, and looked at me. "I have to ask. I need to know. Is there any point in my being here? I mean…is there any hope for us?" I was afraid of his answer, but I needed to know. I loved him so much and it would break my heart to leave him here, to lose him all over again. But, my children, our children, needed at least one of their parents home with them.

He inhaled deeply before looking at me. "Honestly," he whispered. "I don't know." he added and my heart dropped. I'd been hoping for a little reassurance that I wasn't wasting my time here, that maybe there was something to hold on to. "I mean, I don't know right now. I'm going to need more time, it's not even been a week. Just, be patient, okay? Don't give up on me yet," he inclined his head slightly and shrugged vaguely before opening the door.

"I never did," I whispered as he stepped from my room.

* * *

Things were much more pleasant the next morning. Ron and I were 'nice' to each other, friendly even. We spoke, we smiled and we happily passed one another items across the table. I caught both Mildred and Max giving us curious glances from time to time. Not that Ron noticed, he was too intent on eating his breakfast.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, I offered to wash the dishes as everyone else headed off in different directions to begin their day. I stood at the sink, up to my elbows in soapsuds as I gazed out of the window, lost in a daydream, trying to imagine where Ron and I would be now had the last two years never happened, had he never gone missing that fateful day.

I'd just sat down with another cup of tea, the final dishes washed and dried on the side since I wasn't sure where they were kept, when Ron barged into the kitchen and dashed for the sink. He grabbed a glass and turned on the cold tap.

"Oh," he gasped, when he turned around. "Sorry, didn't see you." He took several large mouthfuls of his cold water. "You on your own?" He wiped the back of hand across his chin as he looked around the kitchen.

"Yes," I set my teacup down. "Mildred had to go into the nearest town to stock up on groceries. She asked me to join her, but…well, grocery shopping is hardly a highlight for me," I smiled at him.

He nodded and chugged some more water. "Sorry, it's hot out there today," he gasped when he came up for air again. "Are you not, erm…visiting, you know, the kids?" he wondered. He still seemed to have a hard time referring to them as his kids, our kids.

"No, not this morning. Molly, your Mum, said she was going to take them to visit some of their cousins today. Rose idolizes her eldest cousin Victoire. So, I'll probably go and see them later."

"I suppose I have a lot of nieces and nephews?" he commented.

I nodded. "With the amount of siblings you have, you could say that. They all have kids, apart from your elder brother Charlie." And Fred of course, I added in my head. But I couldn't bring that up, not yet. He'd had enough shocks and upset for the past week for anyone to deal with.

"So…you at a loose end?" he wondered, refilling his glass.

I nodded. "I suppose so. I was going to read."

"Come outside with me," he invited. "I'll give you a tour of the farm whilst I work, and I can introduce you to the cows," he chuckled, before downing his second glass of water in one. "'S'better," he muttered, setting the now empty glass in the sink. "So…you fancy that tour?" he asked, drying his hands on the tea towel and tossing it behind him.

"Sure, why not." I finished my tea and picked up the empty cup as I stood. "Sounds…fun," I smiled at him, adding my teacup to his glass in the sink. "Lead the way," I waved him ahead of me and followed him out into the farmyard.

Truth be told, I wasn't the slightest bit interested in the mechanics of a farmyard, nor being introduced to cows. But, I was interested in spending time with Ron. This was what we needed, some normal time together, on his turf so to speak and just being around one another without the pressure of bringing up our personal past or stories from our childhood. Just spending quality time together.

"You erm, you might need these," he muttered, looking down at the little black pumps I was wearing and handed me a pair of green Wellington boots.

"Oh, right. Thanks." I offered him a smile but wasn't thrilled at the probability of why I might need them – farms were messy. Slipping off my shoes, I held onto his arm whilst I pulled the boots on and he held onto me so I didn't fall. I admitted to myself that the excuse for physical contact with him was pleasurable – it was something I missed most.

"Right, come on then. I'll take you see the calves first."

"I thought you just sold off the young ones?" I asked, confused as I picked my way across the yard after him, feeling awkward in boots that were too big for me.

"Nah, they were last years calves. Max only has about 15 adult females, so there's not a heck of a lot of money to be made from the milk. So, he breeds them as well and we sell them on to other dairy farms."

"They don't go, you know…to the slaughter house, do they?" I asked. I hardly wanted to be friendly with cows that were going to finish up on someone's dinner plate someday.

"Oh no, they're dairy cows. Bred for milk. Come on, you'll like these, they were only born a couple of months ago and they're kinda sweet." He opened up one of the huge barn doors and led me inside.

As if sensing his presence, the silence was broken by a cacophony of loud moos and snorts as we entered. Inside were about 10 young black and white baby cows, and Ron was right, they were kind of sweet with their huge eyes and thick long eyelashes, their large pink snouts and long pink tongues that flicked out occasionally.

"I need to get them cleaned out and give them fresh bedding, then you can help me feed them if you want?" he asked, hopping over the fence.

"Oh, yeah, sure," I answered uncertainly whilst I took a step back. Though they were cute, they stunk! Ron picked up a shovel and began to heap mounds of sodden straw into a waiting trailer. I sat down on a bale of clean straw as he worked up a sweat and chuckled to myself. If only his mother could see him now – Ron used to cause a huge fuss if she ever asked him to clean out the families small chicken coup. And here he was willingly cleaning out a barn full of cows.

"What's funny/" he asked, pausing as he rested on the shovel and wiped the sweat off his face with his arm.

"Oh, nothing." I shook my head. I didn't want this morning to get awkward by bringing up his family. "But, you know there's an easier way, right?"

He looked at me dumbfounded, as though he hadn't a clue what I was talking about and that I knew nothing about dairy farming.

"Well, you are a wizard!" I pointed out and taking out my own wand, I muttered the spell under my breath, twirled my wand in a circle and the dirty, manure filled straw rose in a large heap and landed squarely in the trailer he'd been shovelling it into. I repeated the action a couple more times until the stall was clean.

"Wow!" he gasped. "I never…I…why the bloody hell did I never think of that?" He smacked his own forehead. "It usually takes me the best part of the morning to clean all these out!"

I laughed again. "I can be of some use," I smiled.

"You're brilliant," he grinned. "I erm…left my wand inside. I don't use it much. Do you think you could…"

"Of course," I nodded and we set to clearing out the other stalls in the barn. I'd empty them of the dirty bedding, whilst he followed, scattering clean and dry straw in each for the calves. We had them all done in less than half an hour and then he went to get their feed.

The calves were fed on a mixture of grains and special pellets that he poured into the troughs for them, and added fresh hay for them to munch on in a bale feeder in the corner. But for the most part, they were still fed on specially prepared milk, which he poured into designated troughs with many teats on. I watched in fascination as they all suckled quite furiously and quickly, soon draining the troughs dry. All but one.

"What about this little guy?" I asked, watching one of the calves at the back.

"I thought you might like to feed him?" He handed me a large baby bottle. "He can't get the hang of the troughs and he gets pushed out, so we're still hand feeding him," he explained. "Come over here and I'll show you." He held my hand as he helped me to climb over the fence and then stood behind me, placing his hand over mine as he guided me how to hold the bottle. "Now, hold on tight, he'll pull really hard." He grasped onto the bottle with me as he held it out to the little calf.

He was standing so close behind me that I could feel his warm, firm body pressing into mine and I felt myself flush rapidly as I fought back the instinct to turn in his arms and grasp hold of him. If anyone had told me you could get flustered from feeding cows, I'd have sent them to St Mungos in an instant, yett…here I was, totally flustered. It was a good thing he was holding onto the bottle with me, else that little guy would have swiped the whole thing off me – because I honestly wasn't paying much attention. As soon as the bottle was empty, Ron backed off quickly with a loud cough and I noticed he was blushing a little too, and, although all he'd been doing was holding a bottle, he was sweating again.

"Rosie would love this," I commented, not thinking before I blurted it out. "I erm…she just, she loves animals," I added.

Ron nodded. "Loads of kids like this. Max says some farms open to the public and visitors pay to look around and bottle feed lambs and stuff." He hadn't flinched or clammed up at me casually mentioning Rose. I took it as a good sign.

With the youngsters all clean, dry and fed, we wandered over to the adult cows. Emptying the full trailer of manure on our way and telling me how Max was busy out in the fields this morning, harvesting the last of the hay, hence the reason Ron was working alone on the farm right now. We repeated the process with the cleaning out the stalls, they smelt much worse than the younger ones, despite them spending much of their time in the lush green fields. And then they were fed and watered. Between us we got the job done well before lunch time and headed inside to wash up.

"Did you two have a nice morning?" Mildred asked, conspiratorially. I began to wonder whether she and Max had schemed to leave us alone.

"Yes, Ron introduced me to all your cows." I smiled.

"Oh, they're Max's cows, not mine love. They're his pride and joy and I know where I come in his priorities," she laughed.

"Hermione helped me clean them all out," Ron laughed and then winked at me, keeping our little secret between us.

"That was nice of you. Now, Max hasn't come back for lunch, so he must have forgot the time. I'm going to take this out to him." She closed a lunch box and screwed the lid onto a Thermos flask.

"I can take it," Ron offered.

"I'll be fine," she waved away his offer. "I like the walk. Be back soon," she smiled and headed out again. Yep, she was definitely finding any excuse to leave us on our own.

"I was thinking, since we got most of my work done this morning, this afternoon I could take you…"

"Oh, I'm spending the afternoon with the children," I interrupted him.

"Oh, yeah. Right," he mumbled and hung his head, finishing off the last of his cake.

I grimaced, feeling guilty. Obviously he'd had some plan. "I'm sorry…it's just, I promised them. And with Rose getting all upset again, I can't break the promise. Maybe we can do whatever it is tomorrow?" I suggested.

"Nah, it's fine. And, course you can't disappoint the kids, suspect they miss you." He muttered, whilst brushing crumbs from his top.

"Yes, they do. Actually," I opened the subject gently. "I was thinking I shall probably have to go home in a couple of days. I've never left them this long before and…well, Rose especially is getting a little nervous about it all, she always thinks the worst."

Ron nodded silently. I wished I knew what he was thinking. He didn't give much away.

"And…" I began hesitantly. "I was hoping that…well, that you might come with me?" I looked at him expectantly, wary of his answer.

"Where?" he frowned, looking up at me sideways.

"Home. I was hoping you'd come home with me." I repeated.

"What?" His eyes widened and he pushed himself away from the table. "I…I...Hermione, I can't," he stammered and began to pace the kitchen. "I just…I can't go…with you. I can't." He shook his head. He looked positively terrified of the idea.

"Of course you can. It's quite simple…you just come home. And if you're worried about Max and Mildred, you can visit them and they can visit us. I think they'd be glad you were getting your life back and…"

"For fucks sake Hermione! Stop pushing me!" Ron suddenly yelled at me.

I stared at him in shocked silence before I spoke. "I'm not," I whispered, looking down into the bottom of my teacup. "I just…"

"I'm not bloody ready for that yet. I thought after talking last night you understood that?"

"I know," I nodded. "But…I just, when will you be? Our children need us, I can't neglect them. I have responsibilities, I'm a mother as well as a wife!"

"I don't know when!" he snapped. "I don't know if I'll ever be ready, alright? Is that what you want to hear?"

"No," I muttered. "It's not. But, our children…"

"I don't bloody know them, do I?"

"No, and you never will if you keep hiding here!"

"I am not hiding!" he bellowed, furiously.

"Yes you are. You're afraid of finding your past, of meeting people who love you and know you. So are you just going to stay hidden away here, pretending none of that exists? Like a coward?"

"Fuck you!" he spat at me. "You have no idea…"

"And neither do you! I love you Ron, I really do. But…I can't go on like this much longer. I will not let our daughter have nightmares again because she's scared she's going to lose her Mummy as well. And our son needs his boundaries again before he gets himself into trouble. You are the love of my life, always have been. But our children need their Mummy, even if their dad is behaving like a stubborn, spoilt, selfish brat!"

And with that, I whipped my wand out of my pocket and disapparated out of the kitchen, straight to The Burrow, utterly furious with him.

If I had been hoping for a happy welcome to cheer me up, it seemed I was going to be sorely disappointed. As I stepped into the front room, the children were in the middle of a fight and Molly was desperately trying to sort them out, to no avail.

"Hey, hey…what's going on?" I asked, stepping into the lounge and breaking up the squabbling. Rose and Hugo instantly stopped arguing and looked up at me.

"Mummy!" Rose ran to me and clung to my legs.

"Mummy! I broke foot!" Hugo told me, gleefully grinning up at me from his prone position on the sofa.

"You, what?" I frowned at him, setting down my wand and bending to kiss Rose.

"Now don't panic," Molly took my hand, patting the back of it. "He broke his ankle. But it's all fixed," she added quickly when she saw I was about to freak out.

"How on earth did you do that?" I asked in alarm, going to my son's side. As if I needed any further guilt about leaving them.

"It happened over at Bill's," Molly tried to explain. "They were all playing upstairs, then they started falling out. We just heard the thump down the stairs, and found him at the bottom. We had him all fixed up in less than a minute with a quick spell and a pain potion, but he might still have some bruising. He should probably rest it for at least 24 hours though."

"Dom push down stairs!" Hugo pouted, telling on his cousin Dominique.

"She pushed you down the stairs?"I asked him, he nodded. "Why would she do that? Did she do that?" I looked to Molly for clarification. Dominique was a sweet little girl, a little fussy and prissy maybe, but she'd never hurt anyone.

"That's what he said, but they all denied it when we asked."

"That's cause you thwowed her bestest dolly out the window!" Rose told on her brother.

"Did not!" Hugo shot back.

"Yes you did!"

"Didn't!"

"Did!" she argued back.

"Now stop. Hugo, did you throw her doll out of the window?" I asked him gently.

He shook his head. "No," he mumbled. "Making dolly fly." He grinned, using his arms to demonstrate flying.

I rolled my eyes and inhaled deeply for some patience. That was such a Hugo reply – he never _meant_ to do anything bad, he just usually had some silly harebrained idea that finished up getting him into trouble anyway.

"Dom didn't mean to push him down the stairs Mummy. She just pushed him cause she was cross, and he tripped over a ball and then fell down the stairs." Rose explained, sticking up for the cousins she idolised.

"Hugo, you can't make her doll fly." I explained wearily.

"But," he frowned. "Dolly had broom!" he protested.

I sighed again and rubbed my face with both hands. "Well, I don't think dolly brooms work the same as wizard brooms. And Dom didn't know you were just trying to make her fly, so she just thought you threw her favourite doll out the window. You wouldn't like it if she threw your green dragon out of a window, would you?"

He shook his head sadly. "Doll stupid anyway!" he muttered.

"No they're not! Dragons are stupider!" Rose shot back at her brother.

"Not! Dwagons bestest!"

"They're stupid!"

"Doll stupidest!"

"You're stupid!"

"You is snotface!"

"Well you're just a…."

"ENOUGH!" I yelled at the pair of them, my patience wearing thin. After already arguing with their father, I didn't need to come back to this. "Now just stop it, both of you," I told them firmly. "Now, Rose we do not ever call anyone stupid. You know that, it's a bad word. And Hugo, it's not nice to call your sister names. We don't do things like that in our family. Where on earth did you hear that from anyway?"

Victoire," Rose answered, though the name sounded more like Victor coming from her mouth. "She always calls her little brother Louis that," Rose giggled, but stopped immediately when she caught me frowning at her.

"Well, I don't want to hear either of you say it again. Do you understand?" I asked the pair of them. They nodded solemnly "And now I want you to say your sorry to each other and stop this silly fighting."

"But he's such a…"

"Mummy, she did…" They both began arguing again at the same time.

"I said stop it!" I shouted. "I have had enough from the both of you and I will not listen to anymore. Now, you will miss out on any treats and desserts for the rest of the week, both of you." I warned them.

Rose burst into tears at this. "But…I…did…didn't do…anything…" she sobbed. "'S'not fair….I want to go home." Her bottom lip wobbled.

Hugo pouted and folded his arms defiantly as he lay on the sofa with his foot up. "Rosie fault!" he mumbled under his breath.

"Hugo!" I warned him. "You're already stuck on that sofa for the next day. If you want to make it for the rest of the week, I suggest you carry on like that young man!"

"You mean!" he stuck his tongue out at me. "I want go home." He turned on the water works. "I want my dwagons!"

"I want to go home now!" Rose stamped her foot.

I gritted my teeth, about ready to explode with the pair of them. "Rose Ginevra Weasley, you get up those stairs right now young lady!" I shouted at her, pointing up the stairs. "You stay in that room until dinnertime, do you hear me?"

She glared at me, tossed her red hair over her shoulder and stomped off up the stairs.

"Merlin's pants!" I muttered then and shook my head. They hadn't fought like that or been so defiant in a long time.

"Come on…" Molly steered me into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. "You look like you need to calm down." She spoke kindly to me and within seconds I was sat at the large kitchen table, a cup of tea in front of me and a tin of biscuits on the table.

"I think they're all trying to drive me insane!" I muttered, dunking a biscuit forcefully into my mug.

"They're just kids," Molly shrugged. "They're going to fall out and test your patience. Oh, the amount of times I lost it with my lot," she sighed wistfully. "I'm afraid it's a Weasley trait, the red hair and all," she laughed lightly.

"Must be, it's not just the kids, it's their damn father as well." I slunk back in my chair and nursed my mug of tea in my hands.

"Oh dear," she sympathised. "Things not going well?"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I reached for another biscuit. I always ate when I was stressed. "Things were going great. I mean, we had a good chat last night, and we had such a nice morning together. For a few hours things between us had been nice, friendly and companionable. Then I went and ruined it."

"And how did that happen?" She topped up my tea.

I groaned and then told her about the stupid fight we'd had when I asked if he'd come home with me. "He's just so damn frustrating," I grumbled. "I mean, he always has been…but every time I think we're getting somewhere, that there's some hope for us. He seems to retreat and we're back where we started. I just don't know what to do."

"You know it's going to take time love. You told us that yourself."

"I know, but…_I_ need to get home. You've seen how the kids are today, and how upset Rose has been getting. I think that's down to me not being there for them, for changing their routine and leaving them this long."

"But what you're doing is important. Trying to get their daddy home is the best thing you can do for them right now. Besides, you've been there for them every day their whole life, you deserve some time off."

"I know, but they don't see it like that and they don't know what I'm doing. I can't tell them either if there's no hope he'll come home. And, right now I'm not sure there is. Maybe he's right, maybe he'll never be ready to come home. But, I can't stay there indefinitely with some blind hope. My kids need me, and well, I miss them. I've never been without them this long."

"Then maybe that's what you should do."

"What?" I looked up at her.

"Go home. Leave the farm, return to the kids at least for a few days, and see what happens." Molly suggested

"Leave Ron?" I was horrified of the thought.

She shrugged. "You're not leaving him, not really. But, maybe if he sees you're not just going to sit around and wait for him, he'll panic. It may shake him up a bit and bring him to his senses. Make him realise he's meant to be where you are."

"You think so?" I asked, unconvinced,

"I don't know. But, I think now that he's found you, someone who knows him and a link to his past, he's not going to be ready to let that go in a hurry. And, deep down, he still loves you, I'm sure of it."

"Mildred, the woman at the farm he's been living at. She said that although his mind may not remember me, she's pretty sure his heart does. His head just needs to catch up."

"She sounds like a smart lady. I bet she's right."

"I hope so," I sighed hopefully. "But, do you think leaving him is right? What if it upsets him or he just thinks I gave up, so he gives up?"

"You're not leaving him as such. You know where he is now, you can go over and visit, heck you could always date again or something. But, just let him know you're not going to sit back and wait around forever for his memory or for him to make a decision about what he wants to do."

"Well…" I began hesitantly. "Maybe it's worth a try. I certainly don't know what else to do. I'll give it another 24 hours, and if he's still not willing to try coming home with me, then I guess I am going to have to leave him there." I decided.

Molly nodded once. "Now, I take it you're staying for dinner?" she assumed, getting up from the table and preparing to make a start on dinner.

"I'd love to," I smiled at her gratefully. "And, maybe with the way Hugo is, after his fall, I think I'll stay the night too. If that's okay?"

"Of course dear. We love having you. The children will like it too."

"Speaking of which," I got up from the table myself. "I think I had best go and apologise to my children for yelling at them."

Molly smiled and shook her head softly as I left the kitchen.

And so, that night I spent a rather uncomfortable and sleepless night squished into a single bed with a wriggly two year old who squirmed and kicked all night long, as well as the four year old who left her own bed and climbed in with us at some point in the night, managing to slap me in the face three times. The things mother's go through for their kids, it's a good thing I loved them so much.

* * *

_Reviews are greatly appreciated :) Thank you for all of you who have taken the time to leave me reviews so far - they mean a lot. Hope you like :)_


	8. Chapter 8

_I'm SO sorry this chapter is a couple of days late. It was a rather busy week, then when I went to check the chapter for posting, I wasn't happy with it and decided it needed an edit! But, it's here now...enjoy :)_

_On a side note (and totally unrelated :p) I'm off to Manchester tomorrow to see Idina Menzel in concert - so excited - I'm a huge fan of Wicked and much of her work :)_

_Oh, yes...disclaimers. I'm just a mere fan who adores JK's Magical world and it's characters!_

**Chapter Eight**

Rose and Hugo finally succeeded in pushing me out of bed early the next morning, so I gave up on sleep. I left a note for Molly to explain to the children where I had gone and left The Burrow, heading back to Ron in Woldsea. I hoped I'd be able to have a talk with Ron and still get back to the children in time for lunch. Upon reaching the old farm house, I crept quietly across the kitchen floor, heading for the stairs in hope that I'd be able to grab a quick nap before everyone else woke.

"I thought you'd gone." A voice spoke from the murkiness of the corner. And then Ron's face peered around the side of the armchair.

I gasped audibly as I clutched my hand to my chest with my heart pounding. "Damnit…don't do that," I breathed deeply. "I didn't think anyone else was awake."

Ron shrugged. "It's my turn to milk the cows today, usually done at dawn."

"Oh, right," I nodded and made to head for the stairs again.

"So, where were you?" he wondered casually.

I sighed, turned and took a seat in the armchair opposite his. "I stayed the night with the children. Yesterday was such a strange day, and Hugo needed me. He'd had an accident early on."

"What did he do this time?" Ron asked, the hint of a smirk on his lips, assuming it was something amusing.

"He'd fallen down the stairs, broken his ankle, and..."

"What? How did he…is he okay?" He sounded a little panicked.

"Yes, he's fine. Your Mum had him fixed up in minutes, magic remember?" I smiled. "Hugo thinks it was all an adventure really. But he was still in a bit of pain last night, so I stayed with them."

He nodded understandingly. "Poor little kid," he muttered.

"Yeah…though, it was only a matter of time before he got himself into trouble, he needs boundaries and routine. Which is why," I paused. "Ron, I'm going to have to go home." I said quietly, the thought of leaving him again after living the last two years without him was breaking my heart.

"You're leaving?" he looked up, his eyes wide.

I nodded. "At least for a few days. The children need me, I'm their Mother and they miss me. Not to mention my job and I much as I would like to stay with you, you don't know if you're ever going to be ready and I can't sit around here forever waiting for you to decide if you can come back." I knew I was sounding cruel, but maybe it was for the best? I hoped so.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "I suppose not." He hung his head.

"But, I know where you are now. So, I can visit and…"

"I'm sorry I shouted at you yesterday afternoon, sorry I swore at you." He looked up, pleadingly. Was Molly right, was the idea of me leaving him tormenting him just a bit? He didn't seem to want me to go.

"That's okay," I shrugged. "We both said some mean things. I'm sorry too"

"I just, maybe I _am _scared," he admitted, barely audibly. "So, you were kind of right about that. I don't know what I'm going to find at…home or what people will be like with me, I don't want to disappoint them or upset them anymore. What if my kids don't even like me?"

"They're your kids Ron, you're their dad…they love you already. I know it will be daunting for all of you. But, your family love you. Everyone will just be glad to have you home, to know you're safe." I was speaking gently. Did this mean he was coming around to the idea I wondered. "Besides all that, I think maybe being in familiar surroundings, with your own things, in the home we bought together would be good for you. It might help the memory to see places from your past. But," I sighed. "It's your decision…I can't force you to come home any more than I can force you to remember us."

Ron nodded, seemingly deep in thought again as silence followed. "So…Hugo's really okay?" he asked again.

"Yes," I smiled. "He'll probably need to rest his foot a bit today, but he's perfectly fine again. Though how Molly is going to keep him off his foot, I haven't a clue, he's always on the go." I shook my head, but smiled as I thought of my wayward son. "Rose never gave us half as much trouble at this age."

"Ah, but he's a boy. Boys like to run about and get up to mischief."

"You haven't heard the story of why he fell down the stairs. He's not so innocent."

"What happened?" he looked genuinely interested in finding out about his children.

I laughed once, before telling him the story of our son trying to make dolls fly out of windows on sticks in place of brooms. "I'm not surprised Dominique pushed him, it was just bad judgement that the stairs were so close."

Ron was roaring with laughter. "He sounds great. I can't wait to meet him," he suddenly blurted out and then looked at me surprised, as though he couldn't believe he'd said that.

"Really?" I asked, filled with warmth that maybe he wanted to meet his kids. That he was even considering it was a good sign.

He shrugged his head. "Well, I think maybe all this talk of them is beginning to work."

"You mean you remember them?" I asked, inching to the edge of my chair, hardly daring to hope he might have had some memories.

"Well, no. But…just hearing you talk about home and the kids and everything, I'm curious and I think you might be starting to convince me that it's what I need to do."

"Come home you mean?" I asked, a smile growing on my lips. My heart was fluttering against my chest as I clasped my hands to myself, thrilled he was even mentioning it.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I mean, I'm thinking about it. I don't... don't want to lose you, not now that you found me again. And…"

"You'd never lose me Ron. But…it's your decision," I yawned. "Sorry, sleeping in a bed with two squirming little kids is not advisable. I hardly got any sleep and then our son pushed me out!"

Ron laughed and then checked the clock on the mantelpiece. "Well, I usually head back upstairs for another couple of hours kip once the milking is done. If we go now, we can still get in an hour."

"Sounds like a plan," I yawned again, getting up.

Ron followed and we trudged sleepily up the stairs together. "I'm glad you didn't leave." Ron muttered quietly once we reached the landing.

"I'd never just leave you," I promised him, rubbing his upper arm gently. Surprisingly he reached over and have me the briefest of hugs. Squeezing me tight once and then letting me go, a blush on his cheeks and ears. "Sweet dreams," I whispered, watching him head to his room.

He held a hand up in a wave. "Night," he whispered, with a little smirk on his face as he closed his door.

I went into my own room, still smiling as I fell onto the bed. It wasn't long before I was out like a light.

The tantalizing smell of bacon sizzling finally reached my room and woke me sometime later, hunger making itself known with a loud rumble of my stomach. I dragged myself from the bed and shuffled over to the mirror above the chest of drawers. "Eurgh," I muttered to myself and dragged my fingers through my hair – it was bushier than ever after sleeping on it heavily. A quick visit to the bathroom later and I was following that scent down the stairs, into the kitchen.

Ron was sat alone at the table, a cup of tea in his hand whilst flipping through the newspaper with the other. "Hey," he turned as the bottom step creaked and he gave me a smile. "Nearly missed breakfast," he commented, returning to his perusal of the newspaper. I couldn't imagine Muggle news interested him much, but his hands liked something to do – I'd always noticed that about him.

"What time is it?" I mumbled, taking a seat and helping myself to tea from the huge pot that was thankfully still warm on the table.

"9.15," he replied, finally giving up on the paper and tossing it aside. "You slept over two hours," he grinned. "Think Mildred left you something in the oven, hang on." He got up to check.

"Where is everyone?" I wondered, sipping my tea.

"Mildred is outside, hanging out the washing. And Max is with his cows. Here you go." He placed a plate of still sizzling bacon, scrambled eggs and grilled tomatoes in front of me, before returning to his seat.

"Thanks, I'm so hungry," I delved in.

"So…I have something to ask you," Ron began, watching me eat.

"Go on," I told him once I swallowed my mouthful.

"I erm," he coughed and drank some more of his tea. "I had this dream," he blurted out. "Whilst we were napping and…I think it's more than just a dream. I think I remembered something."

My knife and fork clattered to my plate as he had my full attention. I waited with baited breath for him to continue. "What do you think you remembered?" I whispered.

"I was playing Quidditch, not at school. It seemed like a paddock or a field or something, surrounded by trees. A short distance away I could see a, well a rather strange looking house. Kind of tall, wobbly looking and crooked. It wasn't anything to look at, but it just seemed safe and familiar. You know, like…home," he shrugged, feeling stupid at saying that.

I nodded eagerly. "That's your parents home, affectionately known as The Burrow. Where you grew up," I clarified. "I know what you mean about it being crooked, I think as the family grew, your dad just added on an extra floor each time. It's probably held together with magic to be honest," I chuckled. "And the Quidditch pitch, that's in an orchard on your parents property, you often played there. No Muggles could see you if you didn't fly too high. Were you playing alone?" I wondered.

He shook his head. "There were some other boys there, all red heads. About four of them I think. As well as a young girl just sat watching. She was a red head too."

"Your brothers and sister," I nodded, knowingly. "Wait you said four? Oh…hang on, that actually makes sense. Your brother Percy, he never liked to play Quidditch much. Must have been before Bill left home," I sighed. "But…Ron, you remembered something. Your family, your siblings and your home. At least your childhood home, when you weren't in school of course, and before you lived with Harry for a bit, and then we moved in together. But…still…you remembered something about your family, this is fantastic, amazing, I'm so…."

"Okay, okay, calm down." Ron laughed at me rambling on. "It's all real then? It wasn't just a dream."

"It's real. Your childhood is coming back to you, slowly and in short bursts, but it's there, I knew it was all still there." I grinned at him. He grinned back. "This is great!" I chuckled once, over excited.

"I'm glad you think so, because…" he faded off.

"You don't think it's great?" I asked, feeling my heart drop.

"Oh, no…it is. It really is. I lay there thinking about it for awhile after I woke up. I could still picture the house so clearly and the little girl, my sister. And, I've made a decision." He announced. "I…I want to come home, with you."

I gasped loudly as I clasped my hands together, staring at him. "You do? You really do?" I asked, a wide grin forming on my face.

"Well, yeah, if the offer still stands," he shrugged awkwardly.

"Of course!" I leapt up out of my seat, unable to sit still. "Oh, this is brilliant. You don't know how happy I am." I was grinning like an idiot as I bounced on the balls of my feet and having to physically restrain myself from throwing my arms around him.

"Though, I don't know if it's going to be what you're hoping for. And…it might only be a few days or something. I just want to see what happens and how everything goes. And, I do want to see where I lived and my things and…our home. But f things get awkward…"

I was barely listening to him, I was still beaming away and mentally planning everything I needed to do before he came home. Telling the children, his family, my parents. Tidying up the house and perhaps doing some grocery shopping. And…oh goodness – he was coming home. My Ronald was really coming home. "So, when?" I blurted out, cutting him off mid sentence from whatever he had been saying.

He shrugged. "I dunno, hadn't really thought that far. I mean, obviously I need to talk with Max and Mildred. I can't just leave Max in the lurch with no help on the farm."

"Oh. Yes, of course." I realised, a little discouraged. He was right, obviously he couldn't just up and leave like that, not with all the help he provided them with – I think Max relied on him now. But, I knew it could take days to find a replacement for him.

"Don't worry. I think I know someone who will take over for me." He added and my spirits raised a little again. "Even if they can't though, maybe I could come over with you and just see things? You know, before I move back." he suggested.

Move back? He'd said move back! I liked those words, they sounded more permanent than _'for a few days,'_ they sounded like he really wanted to come home, to be in his own house, to return to his family.

"…thinking tomorrow maybe?" he looked at me and I realised he was still talking. "Hermione? Would that be okay? Can I come to the house with you tomorrow?"

"Yes...of course. Yes." I wanted to shout it, but managed a giddy little squeak instead. "That would be wonderful. And that gives you time to talk to Mr and Mrs Bridges, and I can go talk to my parents, because they have no idea we even found you. And obviously I need to go see how Hugo is today and…tomorrow is perfect." I couldn't stop smiling. For the first time in almost two years I felt truly happy and this was probably the longest I had smiled in all that time.

"Great," he returned my grin.

"Great," I repeated with an excited giggle.

* * *

My poor dad almost fell head first into the rose bush when I suddenly appeared in my parents back garden. Both of my parents were in their 60's now and had comfortably retired from dentistry. Dad now spent most of his time tending to his perfectly landscaped garden.

"Sorry Dad," I rushed to help him right himself.

"Blinking heck, Hermione," he grumbled "I wish you'd give us some warning before you do that." He sat back on his gardening stool and dropped his secateurs back into his bucket beside him that was full of dead rose heads. "So, what brings you here?"

"Is Mum home?" I wondered, giving my Dad a welcome hug.

"She's in the house, baking I think," he waved in the general direction of the house. "She has one of her coffee mornings tomorrow."

"Good, I need to talk to you both," I started, ominously.

"Is something wrong darling?" Dad asked, getting up from the stool.

"No," I shook my head and smiled. "I just…I thought you should know what's going on."

"Well then," he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Let's go find your Mum then. I suppose it is about time I stopped for a tea break," he decided and we headed indoors.

Mum was just taking a tray of perfectly raised scones out of the oven when we walked through the kitchen door. "Hermione!" She put the hot tray down quickly, whipped off the oven mitts and rushed to hug me tight. "Now, what on earth has been going on?" she held me at arms length. "You look tired," she then commented upon scrutinising me closer.

"That's your Grandson's fault. I slept in his bed last night. Never again," I arched my back, it was still a little sore. "Anyway…as for what's been going on, that's what I came to talk to you about."

Mum nodded, knowing something important was coming. "Let me make us some tea and we can have a chat in the front room," she decided, already busying herself with the kettle and teapot.

Ten minutes later we were sat comfortable in the lounge with a cup of tea and some of Mum's freshly baked jam tarts. "Now, what is it Hermione? You called me the other day with some cryptic message and said you'd talk to me soon. I was worried."

"I'm sorry Mum. I've been busy. You see, the thing is…" I set my teacup down on the coffee table. "We found Ron," I blurted out, whilst sitting back up.

"Oh," Mum put her hand to her chest, shoved her cup on the table and came to my side. "Oh sweetheart," she pulled me to her. "I'm sorry. But, well…at least now he can be laid to rest, properly," she spoke softly and held me.

It took me a second to realise what she was talking about and I was horrified once I understood. "No, Mum," I pushed back and looked at her. "You don't understand, we found him. Alive."

"What?" Dad asked, shocked. "You mean…all this time, he's been, alive?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"And he let you go through all that horrid mess? For the past two years he's just let everyone think he was dead whilst you've been so hurt and depressed?" I could see he was getting riled up and becoming overly protective of his only daughter.

"It's not what you think Dad, it's not his fault." I felt the need to defend my husband. "He didn't know."

"And what's that supposed to mean? Where the hell has he been?"

"Dear, let her talk," Mum put in, frowning at my father.

"Ron has amnesia. He doesn't remember anything much. I mean, somehow he knows he's a wizard and about a few Wizarding world things. But, his family, me, the kids…he doesn't remember any of that at all."

"I don't understand," Mum spoke gently again.

"I'm sorry Mum, I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's true. We found him about a week ago and I've spent the last few days with him, where he's been living, trying to help him to remember something about us and hoping he'll eventually come home. It's…well it's not been easy." I admitted.

"How did he suddenly just turn up then? And how did he lose his memory? Are you sure he's telling the truth?" Dad grunted.

"Edward!" Mum snapped at him.

"Well, I'm sorry, but this all sounds like some terrible movie plot," he added gruffly.

"I know Dad, but it's true and I'll explain as much as I can." As best I could, I told them everything I knew. What we understood to have happened to him upon his disappearance two years ago. How we managed to track him down after all this time and what he's been doing the last two years. It wasn't easy explaining things to my parents, even after all this time of having a witch for a daughter and being related to one of the largest pure blood wizarding families since I married Ron, there was a lot about the magical world they simply didn't or couldn't understand.

"He's had a few brief memories since we've been with him. Just short flashes of things. But last night he had a dream about his siblings and his parents house. And well…he's decided he wants to come home with me. So I thought it was time I came and explained things to you."

"Well, I'm happy for you darling," Mum hugged me again. "I know how utterly lost and miserable you've been without him. You must be thrilled!"

"He is being honest with you, isn't he?" Dad was still wary – he always had been. He'd been the only one totally sceptical that time Professor McGonagall had turned up to inform them their daughter was a witch and had a place at a school they had never heard of. For both my Mum and I, it had all made a lot of sense. "I mean…he's not just…"

"Dad, you only have to see him, to know. His face was so blank when we first saw him. He has a totally lost look in his eyes. And he totally freaked out when I told him he was my husband and that we had children together. Ron is amazing at a lot of things, but acting isn't one of them. I know it's all true."

"Well then, if you're sure and you're happy, then I'm happy for you too. Do you think he'll get his memory back?"

I shrugged and sighed softly. "I hope so. I know it's not going to be easy and it will take time, but I'm willing to work on it, if he is. He's worth it."

Mum smiled. "He always has been where you're concerned darling," she patted my leg.

"Well…can't that weird hospital of yours just hocus pocus his memory back or something. I mean, you did ours that time you sent us to Australia." Dad looked confused.

I shook my head. "The couple he's been living with, she was once a healer, erm…a wizard Doctor. She's tried various things, but nothing has worked. We think that because the damage wasn't caused by magic, then magic can't fix it."

"Oh," he muttered, but still looked utterly bemused, as though thinking what use was magic if it couldn't fix this? I had to confess I agreed with him there.

I stayed for awhile longer enjoying my tea and jam tarts – Dad and I even persuaded Mum to let us try her fresh scones, which were delicious. They filled me in on all their news and I caught them up to date with the latest exploits of their grandchildren. Both were horrified to learn that Hugo had broken his ankle. Mum didn't understand how a simple spell could possibly mend a broken bone and insisted I should take him to the hospital as well to get it checked out. But I assured her he was perfectly fine.

After a couple of hours of chatting and catching up though, I bid my parents farewell, promising to visit sooner the next time, and headed off to my in-laws to see the children and let Molly know the latest news.

Hugo came tearing past me in the garden when I got there, quickly followed by James and Albus. "Hey, young man," I caught hold of him, stopping him in his tracks and crouching down to his level. "I thought you were supposed to be resting that foot, hmm?" I asked, gently feeling around it to check his ankle wasn't swollen or anything.

"I is Mummy," he insisted and squirmed out of my hold. "Look, I hop!" he grinned and proceeded to show me how he was hopping everywhere.

"Oh Hugo," I laughed. "What am I going to do with you?"

He thought about it for a moment and looked up at me innocently. "Give me chocolate frogs?" he asked, hopefully.

"You'll get chocolates frogs mister!" I ruffled his hair and then stood up. "Where's your sister?" I asked, after giving him a kiss.

"Playing stupid dollies," he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I thought we talked about the word stupid?" I warned him gently.

"Sowwy Mummy," he hung his head. "She there, with Lily," he pointed and then tore off to join his cousins, hopping all the way. I just hoped he didn't do himself further damage with his antics.

Rose saw me approaching the doorstep of The Burrow, where she was sat with Lily brushing their dolls' hair. "You left!" she told me angrily, standing and placing her hands on her hips. "We woked up and you gone!"

"I'm sorry sweetheart," I bent to hug her and kiss her cheek, but she squirmed away from me, obviously not having forgiven me. "Your brother pushed me out of bed. And then I had to go and talk to some important people."

"You left us asleep," she pouted.

"I'm sorry. But, I have some good news. Two more days and we're all going home," I hugged her. I had decided that I wouldn't overwhelm Ron with the children straight away. I'd let him have at least 24 hours at home without them first. He'd need to get his bearings and look around.

"We are?" she asked me.

"Yes," I kissed the top of her head. "I promise." I added. "Now, I'm going to go talk to your Grandma. Keep an eye on your brother for me?" I asked.

She nodded and returned to the steps, picking up her dolls again.

"Hi Lily," I kissed the top of my niece's head as I passed.

"Hi Aunty Hermie-nee," she grinned up at me. None of the children had been able to pronounce my name, so Hermie-nee had become my name given by the children in the family.

Inside, Molly was sat at the kitchen table, along with Arthur, Ginny and to my surprise, Harry. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Lunch break," he replied, through a mouthful of quiche.

"Oh, yeah, right." I realised, taking a seat whilst Molly was already getting me a cup of tea and fixing me something to eat. "Well, it's probably good that you're all here. Because I have some news," I began. Molly paused in her actions, stared at me for a moment and then slowly returned to her seat at the table. "He's coming home." I simply told them.

Silence followed for a few rare seconds, and then everyone began to speak at once, all asking me questions and exclaiming their joy. "I can't believe it!' 'Oh, he is? Really?' "About time." "Finally." "What did you do to him Hermione?" That was Harry, who laughed at his own words.

"I didn't do anything to him thank you very much!" I replied a little indignantly and jabbed his upper arm with my index finger. "He made this decision on his own. Though I might have put the suggestion in his head."

"So, when is he coming back?" Molly asked eagerly.

"Tomorrow," I smiled at her. "Though it might only be for the afternoon for now. He doesn't want to leave Max at the farm until he has someone to take his place. I think he feels responsible, they've done so much for him and Max seems to rely on him. So, I have to understand that. And, even once that's sorted, he said it might only be for a few days. I think he's curious now and wants to see things for himself, meet the children and everything, but he's still really anxious about it all." I tried warn them not to get their hopes up too much.

"Well, that's totally understandable," Arthur agreed.

"Why would he be anxious about his own family?" Ginny didn't understand.

"Because he doesn't know you, any of you. I think he's afraid you won't like him or that he'll be a huge disappointment to you all."

"Silly boy." Molly chuckled once. "So, when can we see him? Is he going to come here? Should I make dinner one night and…"

"Molly…" I began tactfully. "Don't overwhelm him yet. I think it would be best if we kept things quiet for awhile, just me and him for a couple of days. I want to let him settle back in and get used to things before he meets everyone." I tried to explain to her, but I could see by her face how disappointed she was at that.

"But, we're his family, we want to see him too. You can't keep him all to yourself," Ginny blurted out indignantly and folded her arms.

"Ginny…" Harry hissed, frowning at his wife. He understood better than anyone what I was trying to do – he'd seen Ron after all, knew how lost he was.

"Look," I sighed, "I know that..."

"I'm his mother," Molly cut in, looking at me with un-shed tears in her eyes.

"Oh Molly, I know," I went to hug her. "And, believe me, I'm not keeping him from any of you at all. I know how bad you need to see him and I totally understand. It's just, he's so anxious about all this, terrified even. Of the unknown I guess and not knowing anything about his life here. I just, I don't want to rush him with everything at once. That will only freak him out and send him scurrying back to the farm. We have to go slow." I tried to explain to Ginny and Molly. The last thing I wanted to do was upset them or make them feel pushed out. But I'd thought about this for hours and this was the way it had to be.

"Hermione's right love," Arthur murmured, holding his wife's hand. "We can't scare him off. This is going to be really hard for him. We have to go slow."

Molly nodded slowly, but she'd lost that excited smile from her face. I know she was trying to understand and I understood this was frustrating for her, but Ron had to come first right now. And I hoped by taking things slow, we had more of a chance of him sticking around.

"Maybe, in a few days, you could come over for coffee or lunch…and see him. Something low-key and relaxed?" I suggested.

"I suppose," Ginny sulked.

I smiled at my sister-in-law. "He remembers you, you know." I told her.

"He remembered me?" Her head shot up.

I nodded. "He had a dream about playing Quidditch with his brothers in the orchard. I think it's what made him decide to come home. You were in his dream, sat watching them play."

"Yeah," she interrupted, thinking back with a smile. "I used to do that a lot. They'd never let me play when I was younger, mean gits." Her smiled turned to a rather indignant scowl.

"In the dream he could also see the house. When he woke up, he lay in bed for awhile just thinking about the little girl that he knew was his sister, and the house he saw. He said it felt familiar to him, like home."

"Oh," Molly gasped and finally the tears escaped and rolled down her cheeks. "I can't believe my little boy is coming home. That we get him back," she sobbed as Arthur tried to console her. "It's just, it's…"

"More than we ever dared to hope for," I finished for her, feeling the exact same way. "He's really coming home." I smiled at the people around me.

"Mummy?" A voice spoke from the back door. "Who's coming home?" asked Rose when we all turned to look at her.

"I er…oh…I…"

"A friend of ours," Harry jumped in for me. "You remember Uncle Neville?" She nodded. "Well, he's been away training, he's going to be a new teacher at Hogwarts soon. And, we're just looking forward to seeing him again. He's been a good friend for years."

"Oh," Rose looked positively bored by all that. "Can me and Lily have some pumpkin juice, please? We hot," she changed the subject completely.

"Sure," Ginny got up. "You go on back outside and I'll bring some for the boys as well." She smiled and headed off to get the children some drinks as Rose happily skipped back outside into the summer sunshine.

* * *

Twenty-hour hours later and Ron and I were stood in the kitchen of Apple Tree Farm. A bag sat at his feet, containing the few possessions he'd accumulated over his last two years here. Everything had worked out better than we could have hoped for, Max already had someone to take over Ron's work on the farm. Pete Baggin's son, Leroy, was after some summer work since he was home from agricultural college for the summer.

Ron had spent the morning showing Leroy the ropes and now, after he'd showered and packed, we were ready to leave.

"I'm really going to miss having you around here," Mildred gave Ron a hug, not wanting to let him go.

"I'll be back," Ron grinned at her, sheepishly when she finally let him go.

"No you won't," she shook her head knowingly. "But, that's okay…you're going back where you belong, where you're meant to be. Just, promise me you won't be a stranger."

"I won't," he agreed.

"We'll come and visit. Maybe bring the kids," I added. "Rose would love to see all the animals. And, maybe when we're settled, you can come and visit us? Meet the family?" I suggested.

"Sounds lovely. I look forward to it." She smiled through the tears she was holding back.

"Well, thanks for all your hard work these last couple of years." Max shook Ron's hand whilst us ladies were chatting. "Won't be the same around here."

"Sorry…I could come and help…"

"Nonsense. Mildred is right, you're going where you're meant to be."

"We'll both miss you, but we're so happy for you, that you found your family, your past," Mildred spoke.

Ron smiled nervously.

"Thank you so much for everything you did for him, for saving him…keeping him safe for me," I hugged Mildred. "And thank you for your hospitality these last few days. We'll keep in touch?"

"I hope so. We'll need to get an owl," she laughed. "And, there's no need to thank me. I just did what was right and I'm glad it's all worked out." She hugged me and then hugged Ron again. "We'll see you both soon, right?"

We nodded. "Soon," I repeated and looked at one another in the quiet kitchen. "So, you ready?" I asked Ron finally.

He took a deep breath and then nodded. "Ready," he gave me an anxious little smile before bending down to pick up his bag and then took hold of my outstretched hand.

"Take care, see you soon."

"Bye…and thank you," I waved quickly, before taking out my wand and picturing home firmly in my mind, we turned together, disapparating us away, both of us filled with a mixture of trepidation and hope.

* * *

Thank you as always for your incredible reviews :) They're always most welcome!


	9. Chapter 9

_Sorry! Was intending to upload this last night, but I was having major computer problems (again!) and had to spend the night refreshing the laptop...again! But, it's here now, so...enjoy!_

_Usual disclaimers apply...I'm just a fan!_

_BTW...Idina Menzel live the other night was bloody incredible! I love her!_

**Chapter Nine**

We reappeared directly in front of the house, standing in the dirt and gravel lane that ran by our dwelling. Ron let go of my hand as I caught him looking over his shoulders anxiously.

"Don't worry," I smiled. "We're very secluded here, no one uses this old track anymore. It's one of the reasons we chose this house."

He nodded and then wobbled slightly on his feet, catching himself quickly.

"You okay?" I asked, worried. Maybe this was too much for him.

"Yeah, just a bit light headed," he muttered, trying to shake it off.

"Sorry. You probably haven't apparated very far for a long time, I forget how disorientating it can be. Come on, we'll go inside and I'll get you a glass of water." I patted his shoulder and led us through the little wooden gate, down the path and up to the front door. I turned back to find Ron still standing beside the gate, just gazing up at the house. I looked at it too, with new eyes. I still loved this house as much as I had the day we found it.

It had once been an old farm house and it had a very cottage-y, chocolate box look to it, even though it was fairly large. Built from red brick and brown roof tiles, with a large front door right in the middle and four windows set into each corner of the front of the house. The kind of symmetrical house you drew as a child, or at least the kind I had drawn.

"Okay?" I asked him again. Perhaps our journey had upset his stomach more than I thought.

"So, this is it then?" He looked up at the house, finally stepping through the white wooden gate.

"This is our home, yes." I smiled at him, taking a few steps back. "We bought it together just before we were married, and moved in after our honeymoon. I fell in love with it instantly, and it helps that it's only about half an hour away from my parents so they can easily drive over to visit. You know, since they obviously can't floo or disapparate anywhere." I added.

Ron nodded and finally followed me down the little cobbled path to the front door. I took out my wand and tapped the lock in a well rehearsed pattern – twice above, once each side, once below and then twice on the doorknob. "I'll teach you the code once you're settled," I told him, putting my wand away. "You have got your wand, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, in my bag," he indicated the backpack on his shoulder. I nodded, another sign he wasn't quite the same. The Ron from before always had his wand in a pocket, close to hand – something Auror training and the battles we'd fought through had drummed into him.

"We can always floo in or apparate directly into the house of course," I added, whilst opening the door and moving into the hallway. "As can other family members and a few close friends. But, we're protected by wards and charms from anyone else." I continued whilst slipping off my jacket and hanging it up. "Here, give me your bag and we'll put it down here, we can take it upstairs later. And you can hang your coat here." I kicked off my shoes, I preferred being barefoot inside. "I actually nipped home yesterday and tidied things up a but, it looked rather a mess. The morning before we came to your village, it had been a mad rush of getting the kids off to Ginny's and getting myself to work…we'd just left things as they were. Anyway, let go through here to the kitchen and I'll put the kettle on, or…I might have some butterbeer in, and…Ron?" I finally stopped jabbering and turned to look at him. He was just stood in the foyer, gazing through the open door into the lounge.

He looked a little…well, awestruck would be the best word to describe it. He was just quietly gazing around at everything, trying to take it all in. I wouldn't say our home was lavish at all, nor was it a mansion by any means, but it was perhaps a little grand looking. It had taken us years of hard work and a lot of savings to get it looking this way though. The lounge took up almost one half of the bottom floor, dominated by the huge fire place. A large, squishy coffee coloured sofa and armchairs sat before it, with side tables and a coffee table in front. Over in the back corner was my little nook; an oversized chair full of cushions with a matching large footstool and all surrounded by bookshelves overflowing with books. The children's toys sat in two wooden chests under the front window and various knick-knacks collected over the years and dozens and dozens of photos covered the walls and every available shelf.

"It didn't look so impressive yesterday with toys strewn everywhere and dirty breakfast dishes on the coffee table," I joked, leading him inside.

"Wow," he gasped, turning in a circle to take it all in.

"Took us the first couple of years of marriage to get this room looking halfway decent. You built me these bookshelves our first Christmas in this house, made it my cosy little corner." I added, touching them reverently. "I think you hated that I'd disappear to read elsewhere, so this way we could both do what we wanted, but still be together. I still spend a lot of time here, lost in books or just thinking," I told him whilst straightening the cushions in the chair.

He was distracted then by some photos on the shelf and I suddenly realised just how long this was going to take – it was obvious he was going to want to look at things and ask questions. I again counted myself lucky I had decided to put having the kids home on hold for a couple of days.

"Is this us?" he asked, picking it up.

I glanced over his shoulder at the photo in question. "Yes," I laughed. "That's you, Harry and myself, taken at the end of our first year at Hogwarts."

"We look so small," he chuckled and set it back down. "And this one?" he took another off the shelf - a shot of Ron and I dancing together.

"That was taken at your brother Bill's wedding. We were…erm…17 then, the summer before what would have been our seventh year at school."

"What would have been?" He questioned. Damn! He'd caught that slip up.

"Erm, yeah. We never went back to school …well, I did later, but you and Harry didn't. It's a really long story…can I tell you another time?" I asked, hopeful. I couldn't quite deal with telling him about Voldemort's reign nor our year on the run and the battle we fought in. The second wizarding war was full of painful old wounds I wasn't ready to go through just yet.

"Yeah, sure," he shrugged and set the photo back down.

"I'll go get us a drink," I decided and darted through to the kitchen. Maybe this was going to be much harder than I thought. It wasn't just getting him home and hopefully have him remember us and our life together. There was a lot of painfully bad stuff he'd have to find out about too, and I didn't know how I was going to deal with the fallout of that. How did I tell him his own brother had died?

"Here you go," I handed him a butterbeer from the fridge. He took it gratefully.

"Wow, not had one of these in…well, I guess since I went missing."He eagerly took a large swig of the drink. "Oh My God," he gasped and gazed at the bottle as though it was the most amazing thing he'd ever set his eyes on. "Now, this…this I can remember…and damn I missed it." He gulped some more down.

Great, I sighed inwardly. Sure, butterbeer he remembers, Quidditch he remembers. His own wife he'd shared every intimacy with? Not a bloody clue! I tried not to get upset or jealous about it, but it was hard. When was he going to remember something about me, something special to us?

He was off again, wandering around the room, picking up random photos and asking about them. Occasionally he would recognise a brother or Ginny on them, easily picking them out with the family trait of red hair. But, mostly he didn't know anyone in the photos. Not even those of us holding our newborn children, kissing on our wedding day, standing in front of our home the day we bought it or engulfed in one another's arms the night he proposed seemed to affect him.

It took us almost two hours just to go through things downstairs. He seemed keen to look at everything, study every photo he came across and handle every knick-knack. I noticed him staring at things occasionally, really concentrating on them as though willing himself to remember something about it, where it was taken, where it had come from – anything. I understood that, I felt the same way. I kept waiting and hoping that something would stir his memory. He'd suddenly recall what had happened when a photo was taken or join in a story I told about something…just anything that would suddenly click with him. But, nothing did.

I showed him around the kitchen, letting him know he was to help himself to anything, it was his home after all and everything belonged to both of us. And then I took him through to our study. The study consisted of nothing much more than a desk, a chair, an old two seater sofa in the corner and all surrounded by even more shelves upon shelves of books.

"Figured as much that you'd have a library at home." He smirked, gazing around the room, tilting his head to read a few titles.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I put my hands on hips in a mock indignation.

He shrugged. "Just, you seem to like reading and…well, a library seems very you," he grinned at me.

I sighed. "You and Harry used to tease me mercilessly for always being in the library at school."

"We did?" he asked, looking up from the shelves. "Maybe that's where my observation came from them. You just seem very…at home, surrounded by books." He continued his perusal. "Hey, is that that book you were on about once, 'Hogwarts: A History'?" He pulled the heavy tomb from the shelf and flicked through it. "Maybe I could read it," he decided.

I couldn't help it, I started to laugh. "Now I know you've lost your mind! You avoided that book like spattergroit for years, refused to even look at it. You always said there was no point in you reading it when I already knew it by heart."

"Sounds like I was kinda mean," he frowned. "Still…maybe it might help me remember something." He set the book on the desk, as though intending to come back for it later. "Erm…where's the bathroom?" he suddenly asked.

"Oh…upstairs. Come on, we'll go up there now anyway." I led him from the study and back into the hallway. At the bottom of the stairs, he picked up his bag and followed me up.

"Bathroom's there," I pointed to the family bathroom, rather than our own en-suite.

He found me a few minutes later in Hugo's room, tidying his bed and putting a few toys back on the shelf. "Wow, the kid really likes his dragons." he commented, gazing around at the vast display in his room – the stuffed toys on his bed, dragon models on the shelf, and more dangling magically over his bed and then another one that had been charmed to fly around his room. The charm was beginning to wear off now though and every so often the little dragon would stop flapping it's wings, drop an inch or two and then flap away again.

"Yeah…he's pretty obsessed with them," I sighed, picking up the last one from the floor. "Of course, it doesn't help having an Uncle who encourages him far too much." I rolled my eyes.

"His uncle?" Ron enquired, stepping into the room and sitting down on his son's bed.

"Yeah, your brother, Charlie. He works with dragons in Romania and often sends Hugo little models and photos and things. Hugo obviously hero worships him – he thinks he has the most amazing job in the world and badgers him for all the stories whenever Charlie comes home to visit. You know, our son not only told me he wants to be a dragon when he grows up...he wants to marry one."

Ron laughed hysterically. "That kid is amazing, he sounds like a great kid to have around."

"Yeah, he is. They both are. When they're getting on, anyway. Which they mostly do." I had to admit.

"So, erm…where are they today?" he wondered, studying the poster of dragons on the wall. "I kinda thought that they might be here."

"They're still at your Mum's, at The Burrow. I just thought…well, I didn't want to overwhelm you with everything all at once and they are a handful. So, I thought I'd let you settle in for a day or two before I bring them home. I'm going to have to try and explain things to them as well and I haven't a clue how to go about it."

"Yeah…that's going to be weird for them." I caught him gazing at the framed photo he'd suddenly noticed on Hugo's beside table. It was of himself, holding a baby Hugo, the pair of them almost nodding off together. He picked it up, smiled at it and then set it carefully back down quietly, looking sombre for a moment. "Hey, is that a real dragon egg?" He suddenly spotted it displayed reverently on it's own little plinth. And managed to detract from the attention of the photograph at the same time.

"Oh, yeah…well, kind of. It's a dragon eggshell, put back together with magic." Ron got up to study it.

"Did my brother send him that as well?"

"Erm no. Hagrid sent him it. You remember we told you about Hagrid?" I asked, he nodded. "Well, he's fond of the kids…we keep in touch a lot. He comes to parties and stuff even though he's getting on a bit now. But, he loves that Hugo is so much into dragons, they're a soft spot with him as well, you see. So, I don't know how and I don't think I want to know how he got it, but he gave this to Hugo last Christmas. As you can see from the display, he's rather proud of it."

"It's wicked," Ron grinned. "I like that my son is a bit of an oddball," he laughed.

I smiled, that was the first time Ron had referred to either of the children as being his. "So, want to see Rose's room? It's very different from this mess." I sighed, knowing no matter what I did, our sons room would never be tidy.

"Sure," he got up and followed me down the hall.

Rose's bedroom in comparison was immaculate. Her bed was neatly made, well as neat as a four year old could make it. Her dolls lines up perfectly on the shelf and her collection of stuffed animals sat tidily at the bottom of the bed. Her walls, still painted in the gold and crimson from when she was a baby, now held posters of her favourite characters from the current young witch magazine that was all the rage - 'The Tales of Belle Bobbins, the reluctant fairy and her friends'. Even her clothes were put away.

"She likes to be tidy," I explained, picking up the stuffed bear she'd had since she was born and sitting on the bed. Ron came in and leant against her dresser.

"So I see. A bit…unusual for a four year old?"

"She takes after me. At least in that way."

"In other ways too," he muttered and I caught him giving me a long sideways glance. "Interesting décor," he commented, looking at the walls and then noticed the charmed ceiling, gazing up at it, mystified. Fluffy white clouds set against a blue sky during the day, at night twinkling stars in the dark sky shone down.

"You painted this actually, before she was even born. We couldn't decide on the colour for the nursery, we didn't know then if she would be a boy or a girl. You wanted orange, like your beloved Quidditch team, but I put my foot down. In the end, we came up with this," I waved my arm around the room. "The Gryffindor house colours. You even charmed the ceiling, which was all your idea. She loves it."

"I did a good job." He gazed around at the room smugly.

"You did," I agreed. "Took you long enough though," I teased him. "Began to think she'd arrive before you finished her room."

Ron pulled a face at me and tossed a teddy bear from atop of her dresser at me.

"I feel kinda weird being in here," he then confessed.

"You do? But…it's your daughter's room. You spent many an hour in here putting her to bed, comforting her after nightmares or if she was sick. Playing tea parties. And a lot of snuggling with her as you read to her, she loves stories. And, even now she says you were the best at doing the special voices. I tried, but, I can't compete with daddy."

He gave me an awkward little smile then, as though he might cry. He avoided looking at me and fiddled with a ribbon Rose had tied to her drawer handle. "Even still," he whispered and then coughed, "I feel like I'm invading her privacy, these are all her things, her secrets and…"

"She's only four Ron, she doesn't have too many of those yet. Even though sometimes you'd think she was four going on 14, I dread to think what she'll be like as a teenager. Then we'll need to worry about the secrets she's keeping," I laughed and Ron chuckled.

"Yeah…no boy will be good enough for our little girl, right?"

"Right," I agreed.

He nodded quietly to himself then and gazed around her room some more, before his gaze dropped to the collage of photos she had in a frame by her bed. They were all of her with her daddy, one when she was still a small baby and a copy of the last family portrait he had borrowed from me. There were also shots of her first birthday, playing in the garden and the pair of them snuggled up, reading together. He picked the frame up, almost reverently touched the glass and then set it down again. "They both have photos in their rooms…I mean, of me," he swallowed. "Right by their beds."

"I know…it was something I encouraged and Rose requested. She made that herself, choosing her favourite photos. I didn't want them to ever forget you or for your name to become taboo in the house. We still talk about you a lot and I often hear Rose telling Hugo about you, they sit in her room whispering because they think it upsets me. But, I never wanted to sweep away your things or the memories, as though you never existed. I just wanted them to know you were always with them, even though you weren't here." I gave him a watery smile, knowing that sounded a little sappy, but at the same time grateful I had done it.

"I wish they didn't have to rely on just photos of me," he muttered. "I hate that I missed all this…that I feel awkward being in my daughter's room and that I don't know them. I love hearing you talk about them, but…it's almost as if they're just stories about some characters. I suppose," he sniffed, "being in their room, surrounded by their things…I can even smell them, it makes it real to me. They're not just children in a photo or a story, they're real."

"Yes, they are." I got up and touched his shoulder. "And…we'll get your memories back and make up for lost time. We will." I promised him, hoping it was a promise I could keep. "We'll be a family again soon, you'll see."

"I hope so," he whispered, barely audibly. "I can't wait to see them, even though I'm so scared about it," he admitted with a little embarrassed laugh.

"You'll be fine. They'll love you. Children are much more accepting than adults. You'll see," I offered him a reassuring smile.

"I hope you're right. They both seem very different."

I shrugged. "Not all that much. They just have different tastes. I mean, they're pretty good kids most of the time and very loving. But they can both be as stroppy as one another when they want to be, both know how to throw the perfect tantrum and be little horrors. But…I'm sure you'll love them just as much as I do."

"I feel like I already do," he whispered.

Across the hall from Rose's room was another door. "That's just a spare room," I waved my hand towards it. "My Mum usually stays there if she sleeps over." I added, opening the door briefly to show him the simple guest bedroom which only consisted of a small double bed, tiny wardrobe and a chest of drawers. But it was clean and fresh.

"Oh…right," he nodded, poking his head into the room. And then he dropped the backpack he'd been carting around with him onto the chair just inside the door. I frowned before it struck me that he was staking his claim, making it very clear that this was where he intended to sleep. This was his room now. It really shouldn't have upset me as much as it did. I mean, it was ludicrous to expect him to come home and share our room again straight away or for him to sleep in the same bed as me. As far as he was aware, we'd known each other less than two weeks. I couldn't expect him to come home and just fall back into our old routines as though the last two years had never happened. Of course I couldn't.

Even though, I found my eyes filling with tears. The thought of him sleeping in the room next to our master room was painful. I repeated in my head that this was just going to take time. That's all it was, a matter of time. He was home now, I had him back. And the rest of it, the closeness, the intimacy…we'd get that back too eventually. Oh God I hoped so, because I really missed that side of our marriage.

"Right," I swallowed and avoided his eyes as I blinked the tears away. "Well, you've seen the bathroom, so that just leaves….our room," I opened the last door on the landing.

"Our room," he repeated, blushing slightly.

"Erm…yeah." I was suddenly nervous in my own bedroom for the first time. Well, maybe not the first time ever…there had been another time, the time we lost our virginity with each other. But, now as a married woman with two children I was nervous standing here and I wasn't sure what to do. Ron was looking around the room, he seemed nervous as well.

"You erm…you don't mind, if I, you know, use…well, sleep in….the other room? I mean…for now, anyway. I just…"

"Oh no," I cut off his embarrassed mutterings. "I mean…I sort of expected that, you barely know me, it's fine, perfectly fine," I rambled, sounding rather shrill and far too chipper before busying myself with emptying my little bag to avoid looking at him.

He watched for a moment as I began pulling far more clothes out of the bag that it should hold and tossing them into the laundry hamper or laying them on the bed to hang back up if they weren't dirty. "Undetectable extension charm," I answered his unasked question as he frowned at me.

"Oh, right," he nodded, but still looked a little bemused as he looked around our room. His gaze first fell onto the large deep mahogany bed with tall wooden posts that dominated the room. And then drifted to my bedside table, the stack of books there and the obligatory photos of Ron. Some of him on his own and more of us together. The photos in our room were a little more intimate than downstairs. In nearly every one we were holding one another, kissing or laughing together – barely looking at the camera.

And then his eyes drifted to his bedside. I caught him look in surprise when he noticed the Chuddley Cannons pennant that was still on the wall above his bedside table. The well read and battered copy of 'Quidditch Through The Ages', marked with a book mark on the last page he'd read. And on top sat the heavy gold watch his parents had given him for his 17th birthday. Left behind in case it got broken in combat.

He sat down heavily onto the bed and pulled the watch towards him, followed by the book that he flicked though briefly before holding it close to his chest.

"I haven't changed anything in here, not really," I spoke softly as I came to sit beside him. "In those drawers," I nodded towards the drawers in his bedside cabinet, "are all your things, exactly as you left them. I haven't even opened them, figured it was your business." Though I could probably guess what was in there; some loose change, old chocolate frog cards and wrappers. Maybe even some old love letters from my last year at school, amongst other things. "All your belongings are still in the wardrobe as well, your clothes, shoes…everything."

"Everything?" he asked. "You didn't get rid of it all?" He seemed surprised.

I shook my head. "I couldn't bear to part with any of it. I think I felt that throwing all your things out was like throwing you out of my life, and…I just couldn't do that. Oh, loads of people told me I should – my Mum, your sister, Fleur, she's Bills' wife. Your brother Percy and even your Mum thought it was a little odd. They didn't think it was healthy, but they never really understood. Maybe it was silly to cling onto things. But, they were my connection to you, sort of, and I just couldn't do it. See, I had some good advice given to me not long after you….were gone."

"Which was?" he muttered, opening his drawer and I could see I had been correct in my assumption – it was mostly full of old sweet wrappers, loose coins and chocolate frog cards.

"Your brother told me that I should do whatever made things easier for me. Not to listen to other people, because, even if their hearts were in the right place, they couldn't know how I felt. And that I should just do whatever it was that I needed to do to make it bearable for me. So, I did. Wise man your brother sometimes." I smiled, remembering George's little chat with me.

"Sounds it…" he commented, closing the drawer again.

"Well, at least you won't be short on clothes and things," I laughed, trying to make the atmosphere light again.

Hermione." He touched my arm, stopping me from getting up. "I just, well I don't think I have ever told you that I'm, you know, sorry," he shrugged awkwardly.

"Sorry? For what?" I wondered.

"For what happened…for everything you went through. All your pain and grief and the not knowing. For being a single parent to our kids, for my not being here with you. I just…I'm sorry you had to go through all that."

I smiled and resisted the sudden intense urge to kiss him. Instead I pulled him to me in a brief one armed hug and breathed him in. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You're home now," I whispered, squeezing his shoulder before I let him go.

He looked up at me with a sheepish expression and a rather red face.

"Goodness, look at the time," I suddenly gasped. "This little tour has taken us hours…should probably start thinking about what to make for dinner. What do you fancy?" I got up and began bustling about again. Because if I didn't move now, I was going to kiss him. And that was likely to scare the pants off of him!

"Oh, erm, whatever is good. I don't mind."

"Still none too fussy about your food," I smirked and led him back downstairs.

A short while later we sat down to a meal of spaghetti bolognaise. "Sorry," I apologised as I sat down opposite him. "I'm not much of a cook."

Ron shrugged, already digging in. "Looks good to me."

"Well, I doubt it's a patch on Mildred's cooking, or your mothers" I admitted, pouring us both a glass of wine.

"Honestly Hermione, it's good." Ron said through a mouthful, slurping the spaghetti into his mouth. I gave him a grateful smile and began eating my own, it actually wasn't bad.

"What's that?" Ron asked a little later when I got up to take our empty plates to the sink.

"Hmm?" I queried, not having caught what he said. Ron was staring out the window at something when I turned my head. "Oh, it's just Beau," I set the plates down and hurried to open the window.

"Bow?" Ron frowned as an owl hopped onto the table and held out his leg proudly for me to remove a letter.

"Yes, Beauregard, our family owl. You didn't like the name, so we shortened it to Beau," I explained, opening my letter as the little spotted owl hopped across the table, Ron watched him in fascination.

"No bloody wonder," Ron muttered under his breath. "Anything important?" He wondered, watching me reading my letter and keeping a shifty eye on the bird still perched on the table.

"It's from my boss," I sighed and folded the letter back into the envelope.

"Does he want you back at work?" he assumed.

"No, he was just letting me know that Harry had informed him of…well, the current situation. And he told me to take all the time I need." I stuffed my letter in my pocket and went to grab the ice cream from the ice box and a couple of bowls.

"Wow, pretty lenient boss," I heard him mutter.

"Yes, he's very kind and we're old friends, sort of. I'm sorry," I apologised again as I set the ice cream tub down. "I haven't anything else in for dessert. I really need to go shopping."

"No problem, ice cream is fine." He dug in and spooned equal amounts into two bowls.

"Oh, you want a treat don't you," I stroked the owls head and went to grab his jar of owl snacks. "Do you remember your little owl? Pig?" I asked, after Beau flew away to hunt and I closed the window.

"Pig? I had an owl named Pig?" he asked, incredulously.

"Well, it's full name was Pigwidgeon, but…"

"That's even worse! Who the hell named him that? Please don't say it was me."

"Your sister," I chuckled. "You tried to change it, but he'd answer to nothing else after that. So, you shortened it to Pig. He was really quite sweet, a tiny little thing, a Scops owl. Though he was a little hyperactive and did tend to get rather excited about delivering his letters," I remembered fondly. "He died some years ago, poor little guy. Still, he had a good long life for an owl."

We decided to take our dessert through to the lounge and were sat side by side on the sofa. Even though he was a few inches away from me, I could feel the heat from his body against mine and became very aware of him all of a sudden. It had only just dawned on me that for the first time in about two years we were very much alone and my heart fluttered at the thought. I felt myself becoming quite flushed and hurriedly ate more ice cream.

"How about Scabbers?" I blurted out, trying to diffuse the tension I felt in the air.

"Huh?" he asked, his spoon in his mouth.

"Scabbers," I repeated. "Your pet rat. Do you remember him?"

"Oh," He thought about it for a moment, furrowing his brow as though in deep concentration. "Yeah...I think so. Vaguely. I can remember a rat anyway. Was he rather old?"

"Yes, that was him," I nodded. Great, now he remembers a rat more than me!

"What happened to him? I think I remember something, but…."

"He erm…he disappeared," I added vaguely, not wanting to get into that whole sorry mess of a story right now.

Ron nodded. "What was the big ginger thing?" he suddenly asked.

"Big ginger thing?" I thought about it. "Oh, do you mean my cat? Crookshanks?" I looked at him amazed.

"Yeah, I guess so. Kind of an ugly old thing…hey, did he eat my rat?"

"No he did not. And he was not ugly, he was a beautiful cat and highly intelligent. I miss him. I was utterly heartbroken when he, he…died."

"I'm sorry," Ron apologised.

"It's okay, he was very old, he died the year before Rosie was born. So he had a good long life." I nodded, remembering my poor old cat who had been such a companion to me during our school years. He had been much more of a confident in my dorm room than my fellow female Gryffindor's had been. "I've thought about getting another cat sometimes…especially in the last couple of years. The nights get very lonely, you see," I looked at him.

He looked up at the exact same moment and for a few seconds our eyes locked. There was still something there, I knew there was - that same heat and intensity. There was a spark between us and I swore he felt it too, we were connected in every way. He only had to remember. He leant a bit closer to me then as he licked his lips and impulsively I leaned towards him. Then just at the moment when I thought, or perhaps hoped is a better phrase, that we might kiss, he blinked and sat back, crushing the spell.

I sighed, feeling a complete idiot. Of course we weren't going to kiss, how ridiculous was that? I felt like a schoolgirl with silly daydreams about my crush. Ron may be my husband, but he barely knew me. I wanted to slap myself for being so stupid.

Ron stood abruptly whilst I was busy mentally berating myself. "I'll go wash up then, shall I?" He grabbed my empty bowl and was already heading for the kitchen before I even answered him. The moment well and truly over.

* * *

Thank you for all your awesome reviews over the last week - they mean so much to me :)

More are always welcome...thank you!


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey everyone, you're getting this early this week as I'm out tomorrow night (My Dad seems to think we're American and should go out to an American themed pub/restaurant on July 4th!) Hope you enkoy..._

_Usual Disclaimers apply. _

**Chapter Ten**

It was rather late when I woke the next morning. Last night, after he'd washed up, Ron had excused himself and gone for a bath. And shortly after that he was saying goodnight. It had been relatively early, but I suppose he'd had rather a long, emotional day. I suspected he needed some time alone to process everything.

Whereas I had lain awake for hours, just listening for sounds of him in the other room. It was practically killing me laying in _our_ bed alone, whilst he was on the other side of the wall. I don't think I'd really thought through the ramifications of having him home, nor taken into account my own emotional feelings of the whole situation.

The truth was, I was confused and frustrated and hurt. Why hadn't he remembered a single thing about me yet? At least nothing personal. Could he not feel this crackling tension between us? Was it just me? I still felt a fool for thinking he was going to kiss me – it had obviously just embarrassed him. But, it just felt so weird us being here together in familiar territory, but being so far apart. I knew it was going to take time, I kept telling everyone else that, but I wasn't very good at listening to myself. But just how much time was too long? Could I stand it?

Eventually, after listening to his chorus of soft snoring for some time, I must have drifted off to sleep, not that it was restful. And now, it was late and I couldn't hear any sounds of life from the next bedroom. Suddenly I scrambled out of bed and threw my robe on. What if he'd decided he couldn't do this after all and had gone back to the farm? What if he'd left me? I raced down the stairs, the strap of my dressing gown flowing behind me and almost tripped over my own feet.

I must have let out an audible sigh of relief when I stepped into the lounge and found him sat on the sofa, an open book in his lap, because he turned to look at me. "Morning," he smiled, once, briefly before returning to the book.

"Morning," I put on a cheerful voice, trying to sound more awake than I actually was. "Have you eaten breakfast?" I wondered, hiding a yawn behind my hand.

"I got some juice," he replied. "Hope that was okay? I would have made some tea, but erm…well I'm not sure, or I can't remember the Wizard way," he looked a little embarrassed at that. He'd grown up as a wizard and only lived two years as a Muggle, yet the Muggle way was more familiar to him now. The realisation saddened me.

"Not to worry, I'll give you a lesson later. For now, I'll go make us some tea and…a bacon sandwich sound good?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," he grinned, almost salivating at the thought.

"What are you looking at?" I peered over his shoulder, almost expecting to find him actually reading 'Hogwarts: A History'!

"A photo album I found. Hope you don't mind," he grimaced sheepishly.

"Ron," I put my hand on his shoulder and then removed it quick when he flinched and stared at my hand. "I know you don't remember it yet, but this is your home, everything here belongs to you as well. So, help yourself to anything, do anything, rummage around, look at everything. Honestly, it's fine and I want you to." I tried to reassure him. "Were you…looking for anything in particular in there?" I wondered.

"Actually I remembered something this morning. It was...about you."

"You did?" I froze in my tracks on the way to the kitchen.

"Yeah, I was just lying in bed. I woke early you see, must be from all that time working on the farm. Anyway something suddenly came to me. We, we were arguing…"

"Well that narrows it down," I interrupted, laughing.

Ron chuckled once. "I was wearing these hideous robes, though you looked…beautiful. It was definitely Christmas time, but I think we were at school and there was a huge party going on."

"The Yule Ball," I gasped.

"Yule Ball?" he asked.

"Yes, that year Hogwarts was hosting the Tri-Wizard tournament, and the Yule Ball was part of the tradition. Anyway, what else do you remember?"

He shrugged. "That I was angry with you, thought I don't really know why. I seem to recall the argument continuing later upstairs, in the common room…and that I upset you. I wish I could remember what we were fighting about and why I was wearing those awful clothes. Oh, and who was Krum?" he added, which surprised me.

I sighed and moved around the sofa to sit beside him. Taking the photo album off him, I flipped forward a few pages and found some photos of us at the ball. There was Ron and Harry, sat glumly at a festive table, adorned with food and drink. Beside them sat Padma and Pavarti – their dates for the night, looking rather affronted. A photo below had Harry dancing with Pavarti for the opening number of the ball – the one and only time he'd danced that night. On the opposite page, there was me with my date. "That was Krum," I pointed. "Victor Krum. He erm…well, he was my date for the ball." I explained.

"Huh," he laughed once. "Though, I can see why you didn't want to go with me dressed like that. It looks like an old pair of curtains!" He screwed his nose up at the image.

"They weren't that bad, though you certainly hated them. But, we all needed dress robes that year and your parents had four sets to buy, they were the best they could afford at the time. And anyway, I did want to go with you, but...you never asked."

"I didn't?"

"Well, not until it was too late…and only then as a last resort because no one else would go with you. I was hurt. I had turned down Viktor a couple of times, in the hope that you'd ask me, properly I mean. But…you didn't, so I agreed to go with him."

"I was a right bloody prat then!"

I laughed. "Sometimes. But I think mostly, at that age you just hadn't admitted to yourself how you felt about me or you hadn't realised it yet. That's why we were fighting, I think you were jealous after seeing me with Victor…and maybe that unnerved you. And I was just upset that you were ruining my night and upsetting me, and that you'd come to your senses too bloody late!"

Ron snorted as he looked at the photos. "Still, I look a right tosspot in that get up. No wonder you preferred him," he nodded towards the photo of Krum. "Hey, he was a Quidditch player, wasn't he?" he remembered.

I nodded. "Still is, he plays for Bulgaria. Though…I don't know for how much longer, suppose he's getting a bit old for professional Quidditch playing."

"Knew that team was a bunch of gits," he muttered under his breath. "So…was he your first, you know, boyfriend?" he wondered.

I shrugged. "Not really, it was very short lived. We never really spent any time alone together – mostly he just liked to sit and watch me work in the library," I frowned and Ron laughed at that. "There might have been the odd kiss that night," I added, hoping to spark something within him. "And I had a wonderful time with him at the ball, but nothing much after that. Well, we wrote to each other for a bit and he invited me to visit that first summer. But, I never saw him again until your brother's wedding."

Ron nodded, and I sadly noted the lack of jealousy as he turned the page. "Was he friends with my brother then?"

"No, his wife, Fleur. They were both Tri-wizard champions for their schools." I explained.

"Fleur, my sister-in-law?" he asked curiously. "She's not, is she part, erm…er…" he frowned, trying to think of the word.

"Veela?" I supplied.

"Yeah, that's it. Veela!"

"Yes, she is."

"Huh. Something else I sort of remembered," he muttered to himself.

"Yeah," I mumbled. Something else that's not about us, I thought. "Well, I'll go see about those bacon sandwiches, shall I?" I got up and headed to the kitchen, leaving him looking through the book.

We munched on our bacon sandwiches in silence, still sat next to one another on the sofa. "Mmm," Ron groaned as he finished his, wiping his hands on the napkin I'd given him and then took a slurp of his tea. "That was good," he grinned.

I nodded as I was still eating. And then silence followed for a little longer. Ron picked up the book again. The fastidious side of me screamed in hope that he'd wiped all the grease off his hands. "Can I ask you something?" he wondered.

I nodded and finished my mouthful. "Of course. Anything."

"It's just…I'm confused. You said I have five brothers, right?" he began. And I stiffened, hoping this wasn't going where I thought it might be going.

"Yes," I began, hesitantly.

"But…on this photo from my brother's wedding, Bill, right? There's only four brothers, and me. So, who's missing."

"Percy," I sighed, hoping this was as far as the subject was going to go. "He'd erm…had a stupid disagreement with the family and wasn't speaking to them, so he didn't come. I mean, things are fine now with your family and him," I quickly added.

"Yeah, I assumed so, because," he flipped through a number of pages in the album. "He's here on our wedding picture, the one that was missing. Percy's the one with glasses, right?"

"Yes, that's him."

"Okay. But…there's still only four brothers…and well," he flipped back and then forth again, comparing photos. "I had twin brothers, right? But one seems to me missing on our wedding photo."

"Ron," I began and set my plate down on the table before turning to face him. "As well as forgetting all the amazing things you have in your life, there's some sad times as well, some things that are going to hurt to remember. And…this is one of them."

"What happened?" he asked, looking worried.

"Your brother, Fred. George's twin. He, he died, almost a year after Bill's wedding."

Ron gasped and his mouth fell open. "How?" He asked simply, his voice quiet and soft.

"He was killed…by a Death Eater, in battle."

"What…how?" he shook his head. "Death Eaters?"

"Do you know what they are?" I wondered.

"Yeah, I remember all that stuff. Heard Mildred and Max talk about them a few times, especially after I was first found. But…how did my brother…a battle? What kind of battle? What happened Hermione?" He looked at me desperately and I saw that his eyes were watery. It broke my heart to tell him all this, for him to go through this again.

"It just…he," I groaned, not knowing how to tell him. I really didn't want to get into the logistics of the war we'd fought in just yet. I didn't want him to remember all the bad times before he knew more about the good. "I don't know how to tell you," I admitted honestly.

"Does this have to do with all the nasty stuff you don't want to talk about yet?" he assumed.

I nodded. "I'm sorry Ron, I will tell you, I promise. I just…I don't want you to know about all the horrid stuff from our past before you remember more of the good. We had some amazing times too and…I'm afraid if you get too bogged down by the bad, you're not going to remember the good. But, I will tell you all about it, soon. I promise you that."

He took a deep shaky breath and nodded. "Okay." he agreed. "So, my brother, George…how is he these days?"

"He's okay. I mean, for a long time he was distraught, as was your Mum. I couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, even more so now I'm a mother myself. And he was lost for a very long time, Fred and George were always together - partners in crime, you never saw them apart. For him, losing his twin was literally like losing a part of himself. But somehow, he got himself through it, you helped him a lot." I added.

"I did?"

"Oh yeah. You're support was really appreciated. I know he still misses George every single day and he still has bad days sometimes…grief isn't really something you get over, you just learn to live with it. But, he has a beautiful wife now, one of his old Hogwarts school mates actually, Angelina? Remember her. She played on the Quidditch team?" He shook his head. "Well, they have two children as well, a little girl called Roxanne, and a son he named after Fred. He's just like his namesake, a little terror and full of mischief – I think Hugo has picked up on some of his tricks actually," I groaned. "But…George is okay, he's not great and I doubt he ever will be, but…he's okay. He's actually the one who gave me the great advice after we thought you'd…died." I explained.

Ron looked down for a minute and then ran his hands over his face. He sniffed and I worried he was crying. Should I hold him? Comfort him? I didn't know what to do. "I'm sorry," he eventually muttered. "You were right."

"I usually am. But, what about this time?" I smiled.

He chuckled lightly. "When I said it would have been better for my family to still think of me as dead, and you said I was selfish. You were right, that was a horrid thing for me to even think. My family deserves the truth and I can't let them lose another son." A lone tear ran down his face as he looked at me.

"Come here," I sighed and pulled him into my arms, not caring how he reacted. He needed some comfort right now. "It's all going to be okay," I whispered as he lay his head on my shoulder and I rubbed his back. "They haven't lost you. I'm sorry I had to tell you about Fred." I whispered against his soft red hair brushing my cheek.

He nodded on my shoulder and held me as he allowed the tears to fall. These last few days must have been such an emotional roller coaster for him and I was just surprised the tears hadn't come sooner.

After awhile, he sat up and gave a huge sniff." I'm sorry," he muttered whilst wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "You must think I'm such a prat."

"No," I answered him gently and touched his arm. "It's perfectly understandable with what you're going through. I know these last two weeks have been hard on you and confusing."

He shrugged and sniffed loudly, his ears turning red. "Yeah, well…I still feel a right prat for blubbering on you."

"There's no need to be, I'm your wife, we share everything. I'm just so sorry I had to tell you about Fred." I handed him a tissue.

"I guess I'd have had to find out sooner or later. Better now than when I actually meet George." He blew his nose loudly, took a deep breath and composed himself, giving me a week little smile. "Sorry," he mumbled again.

"Forget it, okay. Look…what do you want to do with the rest of the day? Anything you want…"

"Anything?" he asked.

"Sure. Whatever you want to do, we'll do it."

He bit his bottom lip for a moment before he raised his head to meet my gaze. "Then…can I meet my kids?" he asked quietly.

My breathing hitched for a moment, not having expected that. I had been thinking along the lines of taking a walk or going out for lunch. Not this. "Oh, erm…yeah, sure," I rambled. "I mean…if you really want to. But, are you sure you're ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be I guess." He laughed once, but looked nervous.

"You don't have to yet. I can put them off a bit longer…or…."

"No, I want to see them. I think I kind of need to, I need to know they're real and I want to know them. Please Hermione? I want to meet our children." He grasped my hand.

How could I refuse that? "Okay," I nodded. "I'll go over to Molly's and get them. It might take me a little while though. I need to try and explain things to them before I bring them home. They have no idea we found you or what really happened. I have to prepare them. Okay?"

"Yeah, I understand." He nodded. "I'm sorry for being a pain."

"You're not," I shook my head as I stood from the couch. "You're right, they're your kids and you should meet them. Just…prepare yourself for when I bring them home, okay? I have no idea how they'll react to this news, so…be prepared for anything." I warned him.

He nodded, though his eyes betrayed the nerves he felt. "I'll be ready." he assured me. Before I darted up stairs to get dressed and bring our children home.

* * *

I first caught sight of Rose, lying on the sofa looking through a book when the floo came to a stop.

She looked up lazily and then when she saw who it was, scrambled off the sofa, flinging the book behind her and rushing to hug me as I stepped over the grate, soot and all. "Mummy!" she grinned and looked up at me as she held onto my legs. "We go home today?" she asked me, a wide toothy grin.

"Yes," I sighed and smoothed her hair back from her face. "I'm taking you home."

"Yay!" She let go of me and clapped her hands as she jumped up and down.

"Where's your brother?" I looked around for him.

She sighed and rolled her eyes over dramatically. "With Grandma, she fixing his finger."

"Oh Merlin, what did he do this time?" I wondered, going through to the kitchen with Rose following me.

"Hey Mummy!" Hugo grinned from atop of the kitchen table.

"And what have you been doing now, young man?" I asked, trying to sound stern, but not really having the energy. Molly was putting away a book and then handed her Grandson a biscuit.

"There we go, all better now," she smiled at him, cupping his chubby little cheek. "He got bitten by a gnome," she whispered loudly to me.

Hugo just looked up at me and laughed hesitantly.

"How many times have we all told you to leave the gnomes alone?" I sighed.

"Sowwy Mummy," he pouted and inspected his finger closely. "Gone now, look!" he shoved his finger under my nose.

"Yes, so I see." I hugged him and kissed the top of his head. "Now," I lifted him down from the table, "why don't you go upstairs and pack all your things up, nicely. So we can go home?"

Rose shrieked again and was already racing up the stars. "Go on," I patted Hugo's bottom and sent him in the direction of his sister. He followed slowly.

"You're taking them home?" Molly turned to me, surprised and perhaps a little sad that she'd be on her own again. She revelled in having the grandchildren around her.

"Yes," I nodded. "He…he wants to see them."

"How's he doing? Being home? Here, sit down love," she pulled a chair out for me.

"He's…okay. A bit overwhelmed I think, it's been a rough morning," I added as she was pouring my tea. "I…I had to tell him about Fred this morning," I added quietly. Even now, Molly's eyes clouded with sadness whenever you mentioned her late son's name. Not that his name was ever forbidden in the house, we often spoke of him. Just, you knew the reminder hurt. Up until two weeks ago, she'd reacted the same at hearing Ron's name. "He'd seen some family photos in an album and got confused," I explained.

"I see," she nodded, busying herself getting the biscuit tin out. "How…how did he take it?"

"He was pretty upset. To be honest, I think the last two weeks have caught up with him and he had a little meltdown. He had a few tears."

"Do you think it's wise to take the kids back now?"

"It's what he wants. He says he needs to see them and I think he's right. He doesn't want to miss another moment of their lives. And, who knows…maybe they'll jolt some memory for him? Because Merlin knows I haven't," I sighed.

Molly patted my shoulder just as Rose came clomping downstairs, dragging her bag that was overflowing with clothes and a teddy threatening to fall out, behind her. "Ready Mummy!" She jumped off the bottom step.

"Did you help your brother?" I asked.

"I coming!" he called. Moments later he was stood beside his sister, his bag packed even messier. I was quite sure they'd both forgotten a dozen things, but we could pick them up another time.

"Okay. Now, before we go home, mummy has to talk to you abut something very important. And I want you to listen and do your very best to understand, all right?" I asked, seriously.

Rose frowned at me. "Okay…."

"Why don't you take them into the lounge?" Molly suggested.

I led them through and pulled them onto the sofa, one either side of me. Molly closed the door quietly behind us.

"I thought we was going home?" Rose wrinkled her nose at me.

"We are sweetheart. I just need to talk to you for a few minutes," I pulled her close to me. "You see…it's about daddy."

"Daddy bwave!" Hugo spoke up, repeating what he'd been told about his father his whole life.

"Yes, he is."

"And he fighted bad mens," Rose added.

"He did."

"But he in heaven now," she finished, sadly.

I inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. "Yes, well. About that. Do you remember when I had to tell you that daddy wasn't able to ever coming home?" I asked Rose. She frowned at me. "No, of course you don't. You were barely older than Hugo is now," I hung my head into my hand for a moment, trying to find the words to explain all this to them.

"Mummy?" Rose asked, concerned.

"Okay," I began again. "When we…lost your daddy, he was fighting the bad men and he disappeared. Uncle Harry looked for him for days, weeks and no one could find him anywhere. We thought that he must have got hurt very bad. So bad that he couldn't come back and would have to go and stay in heaven." They both looked at me with little blank expressions, not having a clue what I was talking about. "Anyway," I continued. "Daddy had been hurt, but not as bad as we thought and, well…we found him now."

"Yay!" Hugo squealed, though I was quite sure he didn't understand what he was squealing for – he did the same thing when the dragon scored a Quidditch goal in his storybook.

"You found him in heaven?" Rose asked.

"No sweetheart" I sighed again and rubbed my hands over my face. Damnit, this was so hard – how was I supposed to explain things like amnesia to a couple of small children? How did I make them understand this and not just think daddy had left them and suddenly turned up again. "Daddy wasn't in heaven sweetheart, he never was. You see, when he got hurt,"

"By the bad men," she interrupted.

"Yes, when he got hurt by the bad men, it hurt his head. And, well...his memory has been poorly for a long time."

"What's memmemy?" Hugo asked.

I groaned again. This was getting worse. "Your memory is in your head, it's how you...know things that have happened. Like how you remember what happens in your favourite Oscar the stinky dragon book."

Hugo giggled "Chicken poop!" he chuckled, recalling his favourite part in the book where the poor old clumsy dragon falls in the chicken coop and gets covered in poop and everyone calls him stinky.

"Yes, well. Daddy's memory got hurt very badly, so it's not been working properly. And…he forgot all of us, which is why he couldn't….

"He forgot us?" Rose's bottom lip wobbled.

"Oh, he didn't want to my darling," I held her close to me and kissed the top of her head. "His head was just too poorly. And…he's very sad that he doesn't remember you. That's where Mummy has been the past couple of weeks, trying to help him remember."

"Oh…" she muttered, though it was clear she was confused.

"Hugo, do you understand?" I wondered.

"Daddy," he nodded. "Fell in chicken poop!" he then laughed.

"No," I sighed. "Rosie, Hugo…your daddy is home."

"Home?" My son looked at me quizzically.

"Yes, daddy is at home, waiting at our house. And he really wants to see you both."

"What if he's fibbing? What if he's not really my daddy?" Rose wondered, looking a little alarmed.

"Sweetheart, I know your daddy too well. I've known him much longer than you have. So, I promise you, it's honestly your daddy."

"Oh." She chewed on her bottom lip.

"So…do you think you want to go home and see him?" I asked, gently. I wasn't going to force them into this.

"Yay!" Hugo jumped from the sofa and grabbed his bag. "Go home!" he grinned at me.

I smiled at him, though I know he probably didn't understand, he was young enough to accept most things and just go with it. "Rosie?" I asked, edging off the sofa and knelt before her so I could look at her. "How about it?"

She pouted. "Okay," she whispered, reluctantly.

"I thought you'd be excited about seeing Daddy again? You talk about him all the time."

She merely shrugged. Okay, so this was going to be harder than I thought. Hopefully when she saw him and that he still looked pretty much the same as the photos she had, she'd remember and all the love and good times she had would come flooding back to her.

"Right, well let's go say goodbye and thank you to Grandma, and then we can be off."

* * *

_Thank you as always for the amazing feedback...I'm so touched you love this story as much I loved writing it!_

_More is always most welcome :)_


	11. Chapter 11

_So glad so many of you enjoyed the last chapter :) Here's the next one...sorry, I'm not making this at all easy for them (that would be boring :p) But, I hope you like it..._

_Disclaimer: Just a fan in love with characters and a world created by JK Rowling._

**Chapter Eleven**

Ron was pacing the lounge by the time we arrived back home by the floo network, laden down with bags and children. It had taken longer than I thought to leave The Burrow, saying goodbye with children wasn't as simple as just saying the word. There were dashes back upstairs for items Rose suddenly realised she had forgotten, Grandma packing them up with some cakes they'd made the day before and Hugo crawling under the sofa for his cuddly dragon. And then Molly had made me promise to ask Ron about him seeing herself and Arthur soon and gave me a dozen messages for him. I suggested it might be easier if she wrote him a letter. But, finally we left. And now, we all stood in silence as two little children stared up at the tall man they barely remembered.

Finally, I stepped over the grate and dropped their bags on the floor, before sitting Hugo down on the sofa. Rose was clinging to my leg, peering suspiciously up at her Ron. "You shaved?" I suddenly noticed.

"Oh, yeah," he rubbed his face. "Thought it'd help if I looked as much like they'd remember me as possible," he shrugged. I noted he'd also been into the closet in our room and took out some of his old clothes. A million emotions went through me at seeing him in his beloved bright orange Chudley Cannon's T-shirt.

"Okay, so...Ron, this is Hugo, and this is Rose," I tried to prise her out from behind me, but she refused to budge. "Children, this is your daddy." It felt so absurd to be introducing his own children to him like that, after all he'd been there at both of their births – heck he'd delivered Hugo, a fascinating tale I had yet to tell him about. He'd spent many sleepless nights comforting a teething Rose, pretending to enjoy endless tea parties with her and hours spent holding his baby son. It was cruel that he didn't remember them.

"Hi." He crouched to their level to say hello to the kids.

"Hi!" Hugo grinned at him. Rose merely scowled. Ron looked up at me.

"She's a little confused," I explained.

"You like dwagons?" Hugo jumped down off the chair and studied his dad closely.

"Yeah, sure buddy," Ron grinned at him, Hugo's exuberant spirit was infectious. "Dragons are great."

"He like dwagons Mummy!" Hugo's little eyes widened in glee as he turned to me, smiling wide.

"I heard," I patted his head. "You now have a friend for life,." I laughed at Ron.

"You see my dwagons?" he asked his dad.

"Sure, that would be great," Ron grinned at him and saw the relief on his face that at least his son was being so accepting of him. But then Hugo was two years old, he had no fear and anyone who liked dragons must be great in his book.

"You come." He took Ron's hand and began to drag him to the stairs.

"You wanna come with us Rose?" Ron asked her.

She shook her head and held on to me tighter.

"She no like dwagons!" Hugo told him. "Come on!" he repeated urgently as he tugged harder and Ron, laughing, followed after him. I knew they'd be fine together.

"We'll go find something for lunch then, shall we?" I asked Rose as I took her hand and led her through to the kitchen. "What would you like?" I asked her.

She shrugged, standing sulkily in the middle of the kitchen as I opened cupboards and began pulling things out.

I frowned. "Well, can you set the table for Mummy?" I asked, placing the cutlery on the table along with some plates.

She began to do as I asked, slowly and in silence as she banged things down much harder than needed.

"Didn't you want to go upstairs to play with Daddy and Hugo?" I asked, scrubbing some potatoes in the sink.

"No," she muttered tersely.

I took a deep breath and bit my tongue, continuing to clean the potatoes and then stick them in the oven to bake, knowing they'd be done much quicker with the help of magic than the simple Muggle appliance. "Well, aren't you at least going to say hello to Daddy?" I wondered.

"He not my daddy!" She spat the words at me, threw down the last fork and charged for the back door.

I caught up with her before she could get outside. "Hey," I stopped her. "Rosie," I spoke gently when I realised she was sobbing. "Come on sweet girl." I sat on the floor and pulled her into my lap. "It's okay…I promise you, he is your daddy. He's the same man you loved two years ago…and he loves you still, even if he can't remember you yet, he does love you and he wants to be friends."

Rose continued to sob. "Don't like him," she choked.

"You've barely given him a chance sweetheart," I brushed back her hair and kissed her forehead. "That is your daddy. He's home now, and…"

"He leaved us!" She yelled at me. "He leaved us all alonely and maded you cry and be sad. And...I hate him!" she yelled.

"Rose!" I exclaimed in shock. I had never expected this reaction from her. "Don't say…" I looked up then and saw Ron, holding Hugo, stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

He looked utterly crestfallen as he set Hugo down and hung his head, rubbing the back of his neck agitatedly. "Erm…Hugo wanted to show me the garden," he muttered, trying to pretend that he hadn't heard or that she'd upset him.

"This way daddy!" Hugo pulled him again, completely innocent to the sudden tension in the room. It seemed Hugo had none of the qualms his sister had. Already he had adapted to calling Ron, daddy, so easily accepting of him. Ron followed after the little boy unenthusiastically, just letting himself be pulled along. He avoided eye contact with the pair of us sat on the floor. Rose had buried her head in my shoulder and hidden from him at the sound of his voice anyway.

"Ron…" I tried to stop him, mortified that he'd heard that. She was just a very confused and lost little girl right now and she didn't mean what she'd said. Unfortunately for all of us, the bad times; seeing mummy cry, us being suddenly alone, and seeing me trying to deal with it all, those images were much more recent and familiar to her than all of the happiness and joy we'd shared before as a family of four. But, he couldn't really understand that. "She'd didn't mean…"

"Hermione, don't," he cut me off. "Just…leave it," he muttered as Hugo succeeded in pulling him outside and across the garden.

I sighed deeply as I got to my feet and sadly watched them go, Hugo cheerfully babbling away to him as they walked together to the bottom of the garden. Why couldn't everything be as simple as the way a two year old saw the world?

I turned back to Rose who looked up at me from the floor. She'd stopped crying now and just stared at me wide eyed and forlorn. Although I was upset with what she'd said and my heart was breaking for Ron to have heard that, I couldn't be angry with her. She was just a little girl who'd had to deal with far too much in her young life. I couldn't expect her to understand this. And yet, I was at an absolute loss of what to do. I should have prepared her earlier, given her more time to accept the situation. Maybe this was all too soon. I considered floo-ing with Molly or calling my Mum for advice. I knew I couldn't force her to accept Ron, but perhaps I could somehow persuade her to give him a chance.

And that was when an idea came to me. Giving the food cooking in the oven a quick glance, I turned it down with a flick of my wand and then scooped my daughter into my arms and carried her through to the lounge. Sitting her on the couch, I gathered together a couple of heavy photo albums and sat beside her. Maybe some visual reminders would help?

Rose huffed beside me as I opened up the album – they were all photos she'd seen a dozen times before after all. But, usually she liked to hear about the stories that went along with them. Stories about her mum and dad before she came along, stories of her when she was a baby. Now, something had changed and I suspected it had to do with Ron coming back into our lives.

"Look." I pointed to a page. "That's Mummy and Daddy on our wedding day. That was one of the best days of my life," I added and smiled at her. "You know what one of my other best days was?" I asked, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. She merely shrugged and twirled her finger in her hair – something she did when she was upset.

"The day I found out daddy and I were going to have you." I continued. "We wanted a baby so much, and then you came along." I kissed the top of her head and flipped a few pages through the album until I found one of me heavily pregnant. Ron stood behind me, his hands lovingly rubbing my huge bump as I tried to swat him away playfully. "That's when you were still in Mummy's tummy," I added, for probably the hundredth time I'd told her all this. "Daddy liked to feel you kick. And he'd talk to you and tell you silly stories," I laughed at the memory.

We'd spend hours just lying in bed whilst he had a long chat with my belly. The chats became longer as my bump got larger. "He loved you before he even met you. We both did." I hugged her to me. She actually relented a little and lay her head on my shoulder. "And this, was right after you were born," I'd turned the pages again.

"Yucky!" She poked her tongue out, finally joining in. She usually loved it when we looked through these. "I got goo on me!" She wrinkled her tiny button nose – so unlike her father's.

"Well, you hadn't had a bath yet," I smiled. "You'd been in mummy's tummy for a long time, so I think you needed bath." I chuckled lightly as she snuggled further into me. "Look at your daddy, I don't think his smile could get any bigger," I laughed. "He was so proud to have a little baby girl." I added and looked down at her face. Luckily she wasn't quite old enough to figure out what I was trying to do here. "And here he is holding you."

"He looks silly," she commented and shook her head.

"He was scared of dropping you. You were so precious to both of us and we didn't want to hurt you. Daddy used to worry about that a lot. But, as we got to know you more, it got easier.

One of your favourite things was when he blew raspberries on your belly, you'd laugh for hours when he did that." I smiled, thinking back on the amount of times I'd caught them doing that together. It never failed to make her laugh – even if she'd been screaming the house down moments before.

"What do Mummy?" Hugo bounded in from the kitchen.

"We're looking at photos sweetheart." I smiled up at my son, unsurprised to see the dirt on his nose. "Did you have fun outside?" I asked him. He nodded eagerly as he climbed up on the sofa and nuzzled in under my arm on my other side.

"Eurgh, your hairs wet!" I complained as he touched the bare skin of my arms.

"Sorry, it started raining outside," Ron apologised, looking awkward and casting furtive glances towards the door as though he didn't think he should intrude. It was going to take awhile for him to get the idea that this was his home and he had every right to be here. I smiled at him, hoping I was reassuring.

"That baby!" Hugo spoke loudly as he pointed to the photo.

"Yes, that's your sister. When she was a baby with her daddy."

"Baby Hugo!" He insisted.

"No, it's me!" Rose shouted at her brother.

"Rose, we don't shout at each other. Hugo, that is Rose. You weren't born yet."

Ron was making a sneaky retreat for the hallway, seems my smile hadn't reassured him much.

"Daddy! Come look!" Hugo called him over.

"Nah buddy. I'll just erm…" he nodded his head upwards, obviously planning on hiding out upstairs.

"No, stay!" He told him and jumped off the sofa to pull him over.

"Stay Ron. Please?" I asked him.

He sighed and reluctantly allowed Hugo to lead him back into the room. He sat in the armchair though, giving his daughter her space. This wasn't the way I imagined things at all – they'd missed their father so much, I thought they'd be excited to have him back. Looking over, I gave him another smile, knowing how he must be feeling. He gave me a brief, though weak, smile in return, before his face took on a solemn look again.

I turned the page of the album. "Hugo!" He squealed and pointed to the photo of a baby.

"No, that's Rose too," I explained. "Daddy was making her fly."

"I fly!" He insisted.

"Daddy did that with you as well," I sighed turning a few pages. "There's you," I pointed to my large belly. "Inside mummy's tummy!"

"Nooo," Hugo giggled as though that was the most ludicrous idea in the world.

"Yes, you were in there. And there's you Rose, on your Dad's shoulders. You were always such a daddy's girl," I sighed, kissing her head.

"I see Hugo!" He tugged at the pages, wanting to see his own baby pictures.

"Okay, settle down. Don't spoil the book." I took his hand away and skipped ahead to a photo of his birth. Right, there you are. Just after you were born, here, in the middle of a blizzard." I pointed to the squirming bundle I was cuddling.

Ron was staring at us and got up to look at the photo over our shoulders. He then looked around the room and back to the couch, before studying the photo again.

"Are you alright?" I asked him.

"Shh, wait." He shook his head.

I just stared at him as both the children looked at him in fascination. Hugo giggled, thinking he was playing a game. I tried to shush him, watching Ron with concern. He looked so serious and puzzled about something, as though he was struggling to do his potions homework again.

"You went into labour, right there!" He suddenly spoke and pointed to the sofa.

I gasped, realising he had remembered something. "Which one?" I wondered how much he remembered.

"Hugo." He replied. "It was late...snowing and we were alone?" he asked. I nodded. "Labour was really fast and…we couldn't reach anyone to let them know we needed help. You…you gave birth right here, on the couch. And, oh Merlin….I delivered him?" he looked up, stunned and yet a look of pure magic on his face, as though he was seeing his son come into the world for the first time. Though, I realised, in his mind he actually was.

"That's right!" I closed the album as I grinned at him, going back to that night in my mind as though it had happened yesterday.

_Ron was knelt with his head in the fireplace, yelling for his Mum, for his Dad, for anyone to hear him. Becoming more and more panicked with each passing second. "Where the bloody hell…" he muttered, pulling his head from the fire. "You all right love?" he asked, scooting to my side quickly and checking on me._

_I nodded as I breathed through another pain. "It…it's…go...ing..off, now," I managed to hiss out the words as the latest contraction dispersed._

_He quickly kissed my damp forehead. "I'm gonna try Mum again." He was already heading back to the fireplace._

"_No, Ron!" I yelled to get his attention. "They...they're not home. They went to that award ceremony for your Dad at the Ministry, remember? I think the whole family went with them." I'd only just remembered that it was tonight that Arthur was being awarded for his long standing services to the Ministry. The whole family had been invited, but at nine months pregnant I had no inclination of getting dressed up and going anywhere, so we were staying in. _

"_Merlin's bollocks!" He gasped and smacked his own forehead. "But, we need her. You need her. I can't…I can't do this." He began to pace back and forth in the lounge, glancing back at me and then frantically at the fireplace as though expecting for someone to pop out of it and help us._

"_Ron...please, I need you," I reached my hand out towards him, not wanting him to leave my side._

"_Maybe...maybe I should disapparate us both to St Mungos?" He suggested._

"_Don't you dare move me," I hissed at him. I was in so much pain right now, the thought of apparating in my condition made me want to vomit. "Besides, we can't leave Rose." I pointed out._

_Ron groaned and slumped back on his heals beside me. "Then, then...maybe, I can send Beau with a letter and..."_

"_It will never get there in time," I rebuffed his idea whilst squirming on the sofa as I tried to rub my own back that was killing me._

_Ron noticed and pushed his hand behind me, rubbing his hand in small circles, the anxiety evident on his face. "Hermione," he whispered, his lips close to my hair, "what, what if they don't come? What if no one comes and…."_

"_Ron, please keep calm. I need you." I grasped hold of his other hand again, becoming anxious myself. This wasn't how it should be happening at all. "Owww!" I moaned and just as he grasped my hand, another contraction hit me and I squeezed his fingers. Hard._

"_Ow! Damnit Hermione…let go," he yelled and tried to get his hand free. "Owww…" he moaned in pain, right along with me. _

"_My Mum," I gasped, as he yanked his hand from mine when it was over again. "Call my Mum," I told him._

"_Oh, yeah." He was shaking his hand and flexing his fingers as though he thought I'd broken them and then ran off in search of my little mobile phone I kept to keep in touch with my parents. "Hello?" He put it to his ear. "There's nothing there." He looked at me and then stared at the phone as though it had offended him._

"_You have to turn it on," I tried to sit up on the sofa. He came to help me. "Give it here," I snatched it from his hands, turned it on and dialled my parents number. But, before they answered, another contraction was coming. I was a little alarmed at how fast they were happening now – every minute. Things hadn't progressed this fast at all with Rose. "Here," I thrust it at him, almost throwing it across the room._

_Ron grabbed the phone and spoke to my mum, explaining everything that was happening. "What?" he looked up at me startled. "Oh no…please no." He shook his head and I stared at him, trying to get through the contraction and worried about what my mum was telling him. "Well, as soon as you can then. I'll try." And then he hung up, tossing the phone behind him. "You won't believe this. Your mum's car won't start! And apparently there's a blizzard going on out there!" He went to the window and pulled the curtains aside, cursing under his breath. Obviously my Mum had been right about the snow. He turned back from the curtain, letting it fall back over the window. _

"_Ron," I called him over, really nervous now that I knew we were really all alone out here. Just us and our two year old daughter asleep upstairs. "Ron, please…" I reached for him._

"_I'm here, I'm here." He was at my side and brushing damp hair from my face. "Just so long as you don't try to break my hand again," he chuckled._

_I shot him a withering look. He merely smiled at me and wiped the sweat from my brow with a cool, damp towel. _

"_I didn't think this was supposed to happen for another couple of weeks," he muttered then._

"_Yeah, well your child is obviously in a hurry," I breathed and winced suddenly._

"_You okay?" he panicked again._

"_Just…pressure," I told him._

"_So much for our quiet night in, huh?" Ron chuckled lightly as he knelt by the sofa and held my hand, brushing back my hair and trying to calm himself as much as me. "A patronus!" He unexpectedly blurted out."I can send a patronus to the Ministry..." He rambled, shuffling away from me to grab his wand from the table._

_I shook my head, pulling him back as suddenly my body stiffened and I bit my bottom lip, holding my breath. The pressure I'd felt had increased dramatically and I felt sure I knew what was happening. This wasn't my first time after all. My face must have given away my stricken realisation. "No time," I gasped._

"_What's wrong?" Ron froze too, looking me up and down for any sign that something had happened._

"_I think….I think it's coming," I whispered._

"_What?" His eyes widened. "Oh bloody hell! No! It can't! I mean…can't you hold it in or something?" He grasped his hair, fisting his fingers in clumps of ginger locks and looked frightened._

"_No I bloody can't!" I snapped at him. "What do you want me to do? Cross my legs?"_

_He shrugged. "If it will help!"_

_I slapped him for that. "Idiot! If the baby is coming, it's coming. You need to go and look."_

"_Look? For what? Do you mean….down there?" He nodded towards my nether regions._

"_No, I think it might come out of my nose!" I snapped at him again. "For Merlin's sake Ron, it's not as though you've never seen me down there. Go look!" I yelled at him._

"_Yeah, but…" he mumbled to himself. "Not like this…" he muttered, grudgingly helping me to push the blanket aside. My yoga pants and underwear had been removed after they became drenched when my waters had broken a little while ago. "Now…what can you see?" I asked._

"_Nothing, it's dark," he muttered. I shoved him and another pain was coming. "Hang on." He grabbed his wand from the coffee table behind him, muttered 'lumos' and shone it between my legs. "Oh shit…oh crap," he hissed. "I…I can see the head. Oh crap…"_

"_I need to push," I moaned._

"_No, don't!" he panicked again. "I don't…I don't know how to do this!"_

"_You were there when Rose was born, stop being an idiot and help me here. RON!" I yelled at him as I breathed heavily. I got him to look at me and I held his gaze for a moment, imploring him to listen to me. "Please…I need you. We have to do this, together."_

"_Okay, okay," he nodded, "I can do this…I can…oh crap, there's hair, I can see hair. What do I do?" He looked up at me._

"_Just…guide the baby out…"I tried to move my legs to give the baby room to be born. Ron sat on the bottom of the sofa and helped manoeuvre me. "Now, just place one hand on the head, and one underneath and the baby will come." I told him, thanking my lucky stars I'd been present during a couple of my sister-in-law's giving birth over the last couple of years. _

_I pushed then, just a little and already I could feel the baby move. This was all happening so fast. Rose seemed to take forever to arrive and this baby was almost here less than two hours since my waters broke. _

"_It's coming," Ron muttered. "It's coming…"_

_I pushed again, trying not to scream. I didn't want to wake Rose and scare her. The last thing her innocent mind needed was to walk in and see all this going on. _

"_It's stuck," Ron looked at me frantically. "It's stopped."_

_I shook my head. "It will come…just, the shoulders," I told him between pants and began pushing again._

"_Okay…it's moving again, it's coming…it's…oh Merlin, Hermione," he whispered in wonderment as the baby slid into his hands. "It's….it's a boy." The room was filled with the sounds of angry, protesting wails as Ron grinned, looking up at me in awe with eyes that shone of love. Using his wand and listening to my guidance, he managed to cut the cord and then grabbed the blanket that had been covering me, he wrapped the baby in it, before handing me our son. _

"I delivered our son," he whispered, gazing at me in astonishment in present day.

"You did. And you were amazing," I smiled at him. "Oh, you panicked at first...almost fainted when I said he was coming and you'd have to help me. But, you'd been so supportive until then, keeping me calm and helping me through the pains. I knew you could it. And…we just got on with it."

"I can see it all," he muttered and then blushed. "I erm…probably shouldn't be seeing some of it," he confessed. "But…I can see me handing him to you, I remember it all so clearly now. It…it was perfect."

"It was," I agreed. "Not the birth we had planned, but somehow it was how it should be. Everyone got the surprise of their lives when they finally turned up and found me sitting on the sofa, cuddling our baby boy and drinking a cup of tea you'd made."

Ron laughed. "Wow…I can't believe I did that. Can't believe I'd forgotten it though." He muttered to himself and shook his head.

"Not to worry, it's all coming back now." I smiled at him.

He tickled Hugo. "I was the first person to ever see you buddy." He chuckled, making Hugo giggle and roll around the sofa. "I helped you into this world. " He gazed at me and we shared that special secret smile that parents share – amazed by the miracle of life together.

Our moment was interrupted with the sound of little sobs coming from the end of the sofa. Rose sat there, curled into a ball and buried her head in her arms. Her body was shaking with her little sobs.

"Rosie…what is it?" I asked, reaching for her.

She lifted her head, tears running down her cheeks as she glared at her father. "You don't like me!" She seethed, accusingly.

"Rosie, that's not true," I tried to stop her.

"You don't 'member me…you not 'member baby Rosie!" She pushed me away as she yelled at us. "You not my daddy!" she yelled at him. "And you hate me too!" She screamed whilst scrambling off the couch and running for the stairs.

"Rose!" I shouted her.

She ignored me and flung the living room door open.

Ron got up and chased after her, he grabbed her around the waist and sat down on the floor with her, where she screamed at him and struggled. "Shh, shh…Rosie," he whispered, trying to calm her. "It's okay Rosie," he murmured gently. But still she succeeded in scrambling out of his arms, though just stood there, sobbing. "Rosie," he spoke, getting up on his knees so he could look at her properly. She sniffed loudly. "Honey, that's not true. I could never hate you sweetheart. And…I know I'm your daddy, you wanna know how?" he asked her.

She pouted and shrugged her shoulders indifferently, gazing at her feet to avoid looking at him.

He continued anyway. "Because I know it, in here." He put his hand on his chest. "In my heart. I might not really remember you in my head yet. But I know that I love you. Just as I love Hugo. And I love your Mum," he added.

I gasped. My mouth literally fell open and I just stared at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "You…you…love…" I stammered.

"Erm, yeah," Ron mumbled, his face turning a bright shade of crimson as he lowered his eyes. "Well, I mean…I love all of you," he mumbled embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just, this strange sense I have. I don't remember everything yet, much of this is all so confusing to me, but I know we're connected. I know you're my family." He gave me a sheepish grin as he glanced up. "My head might not know you all yet, but...I feel it."

"See Rosie!" I smiled at our daughter, at the same time I was fighting back tears of utter joy. Those might have been the sweetest words I had ever heard my husband utter. "Daddy loves all of us." I grinned and hugged Hugo that little bit tighter until he grimaced and wriggled out of my arms.

Rose wasn't impressed either, she just sighed, glanced at the both of us and flounced off into the kitchen. But, at least she wasn't crying or running off anymore – I'd take that as a win, as my husband and I smirked at one another.

* * *

Feedback is loved by writers...:)

Next weeks chapter will be posted a little earlier as I'm away for the weekend :)


	12. Chapter 12

_Here we go, as promised - a slightly earlier post this week because I am away this weekend. Off to London tomorrow for London Film and Comic Con - should be a really fun and geek filled weekend and hopefully I can meet 'Dumbledore' and 'Mr Filch' and get there autographs to add to my collection :) As well as spend yet more money on Harry Potter merchandise - yay :)_

_Hope you like this chapter and I just want to say thank you so very, very much to those people who take the time to reply here, particularly those who do so after every chapter. It means so much and your reviews make me smile...I'm kinda proud of this. Thanks again!_

_Disclaimer: JK Rowling just allows me to play with these characters, sadly she will not let me keep Ron!_

**Chapter Twelve**

I was in a deep sleep when a commotion right outside my bedroom door woke me. Sitting bolt upright in bed whilst grabbing my wand from the bedside table, I listened carefully, evaluating the situation and the best course of action. Were my children in danger? As I swung my legs out of bed and crept towards the door, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. The only voices I could hear were that of my daughter, though sounding rather indignant, and the hushed frantic whispering of my husband.

I lit the tip of my wand and opened the door. "What is gong on?" I hissed, not wanting to wake Hugo. It had taken long enough to get him to sleep as it was. He'd been overly excitable at having his Dad home and he didn't seem to want to miss a second of it. He'd only settled after Ron had taken him to bed and read to him. Rose hadn't liked that, but at least she'd been more subdued about her feelings over it than before.

Until now that was. Both faces had turned to me as I'd opened the door. Ron's apologetically, and Rose's warily, but it would seem they had been in the middle of some heated discussion.

"Rose, what are you doing out of bed?" I asked her. It was, after all, still the early hours of the morning.

"Sorry, my fault," Ron cut in. "I was just coming out of my room when she came out of the bathroom. And…"

"Why he sleep in there!" Rose demanded of me, pointing towards the spare room and not keeping her voice down.

"Ssh, I don't want your brother joining this little rendezvous!" I hissed.

She screwed her nose up at me, not understanding that word. "Why?" She then demanded an answer to her question, giving Ron a scornful glare and then looking up at me expectantly.

"Well…because, I…" I stammered for an answer.

"It was my idea," Ron began, not wanting her angry with me over something he'd done.

"Daddies are supposed to sleep with mummies!" She insisted, her hand on her hip.

"Not all daddies," I argued back.

"They do too," she nodded, her mussed up red curls floating around her head. "Lily's daddy sleeps with her mummy. And Victoire's daddy sleeps with her mummy. And Fred's daddy sleeps with his mummy. And…"

"Yes, yes, okay. I get it. Most daddies do sleep with the mummies. But…"

"Rose…your Mum and I, we've been a part for a long time and…" Ron attempted to explain, but then faded off and looked to me to help him.

Rose huffed and folded her arms across her pale pink, fairy covered nightgown. "Don't you love him?" she asked me.

I sighed deeply. I so didn't need this conversation at three in the morning. Ron looked curiously at me for the answer to that one as well. Even though he should already be well aware of my feelings for him. "Yes," I answered her simply and honestly.

"You don't love my mummy!" Rose then accused him, figuring it must be his fault.

"That's not true!" he retorted at normal range, forgetting we were trying to keep our voices down. "I do," he then whispered. "I love you all, but…it's just, it…" he stammered.

"Rose, come with me," I took her hand and led her back to my room. "I got this," I told him. "You go back to bed."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it, there was bound to be questions. I'll talk to her. It's fine."

He nodded, but looked rather remorseful about it. "Well, goodnight," he whispered and then returned to his room, seemingly forgetting he'd been heading for the bathroom before.

Closing my bedroom door behind me, I turned to sit on the bed. Rose had already crawled beneath the blankets, making herself comfortable, and was waiting for me in what was supposed to be Ron's side of the bed. I got in beside her. "Now," I began.

"I don't like him here," she sulked.

"Rose…" I sighed, searching for the right words and wishing again that I wasn't dealing with this in the early hours of the morning. "I know it's going to take some getting used to, having daddy home. He's been gone a long time and maybe you don't remember him much either. I understand that it's weird for you. But, I'm hoping you can understand that it's going to take daddy some time to get used to us all again as well?" I asked.

She glared at me, or tried to, before her bottom lip jutted out and the tears fell.

"Oh sweetheart," I scooted her closer to me and lay down beside her. "I know it's all very confusing. But, I promise that daddy loves you."

"He leaved us," she sniffed. "And you cried, all…" she hiccuped, "the time," she wailed.

"He never wanted to sweetheart, he never meant to leave us and I know he'd change it all if he could. He was sad without us too. I'm sorry that you only remember the sad times…that you saw mummy crying so much. But, that wasn't daddy's fault – I just missed him so much. He's very, very special to me and I was so sad he was gone. But, we're lucky – we get to have him back." I whispered and brushed her hair from her face.

She just looked up at me, confused and wide eyed. "Why he sleep in Grandma's room?" she asked again. The only person to usually use the spare room was my Mum, hence her referring to is as Grandma's room.

"Because…well, because he needs to remember being with us and how things used to be before he'll feel comfortable at home again or sleeping in here. This must be strange for him, being in a house with people he doesn't really know yet. It's not because he doesn't love mummy, he just doesn't remember that he loves mummy. Do you understand that?"

She shook her head.

"I know, it's hard." I sighed and lay my head on my pillow. "But, all we can do is help him to remember and let him know we want him here, because the one thing I wanted the very most was to have your daddy back…and we got him. So, we should be happy, right?" I asked her, then looked down and realised she had fallen asleep.

"Oh Rosie," I sighed deeply and kissed her forehead, before shuffling her down onto the pillow. I'd let her sleep with me tonight. "I hope you can understand all this soon, because you're breaking your dad's heart," I whispered. And then I extinguished my wand, lay back down under the sheets and sought the solace of sleep for a few more hours.

* * *

I woke a little later than usual in the morning, tired after my broken nights sleep. You'd think I'd be used to it, but it had taken me some time to drift off again after the altercation in the hallway. A dozen thoughts had been running through my head and I had found myself still laying quietly as dawn broke outside, listening for sounds of Ron in the room next-door, whilst out daughter slept soundly beside me.

There was a crash from downstairs that finally jolted me from my bed and had me running downstairs in my pyjamas. Rose was lying on the couch, completely none perturbed by the noise as she looked through a book. Between Molly and I teaching her, she was starting to learn a few words, but mostly she just followed the story through the pictures. I kissed the top of her head quickly and rushed through to the kitchen, discovering the cause of the noise.

Hugo was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking utterly dismayed at the broken china at his feet. Ron was trying to console him, telling him it wasn't his fault, that it was fine. But his little bottom lip was wobbling and I knew he'd be in tears soon. Hugo that is, not my husband. Though, from the looks of Ron's face, he wasn't far behind.

With a sigh of relief that it was just some broken dishes, and not a broken window with Death Eaters crawling inside to attack my family, I flicked my wand, that I had thought to grab from my bedside table, muttered 'reparo' under my breath and the dishes restored themselves, stacking together on the table and not a mark on them.

Hugo looked up at Ron with delight – as if he'd done the magic himself. But then followed his father's gaze to me, standing in the doorway.

"I sowwy Mummy," he muttered, hanging his head.

"Oh sweetheart, that's okay. I heard daddy say it wasn't your fault. And look, they're all fixed, so no harm done." I crouched down and held my arms open for him. He ran towards me and threw his little arms around my neck, sighing deeply into me.

"We was making you bweakfast," he muttered then.

Ron added. "Hugo wanted to help, he was setting the table, but I didn't think and the plates were too heavy for him. Sorry, I forgot that spell," he shrugged and looked sheepish.

I just grinned at the pair of them and shook my head. I didn't care about the dishes. I was just thrilled that my boys were together in the kitchen, making me breakfast and enjoying being together. Ron, I noted happily, was using the oven, magically. I had given him a brief demonstration last night when I made dinner, but now he was using it like pro – he'd picked it up really quickly. I suppose I shouldn't have been too surprised – magic was innate to him after all and I was sure using magic in his day to day life would return as second nature to him in no time.

"Well, what can I do to help?" I asked.

"Nothing," Ron turned back to the stove to check on the bacon sizzling in the pan. "You sit there and I'll bring you a cup of tea in a minute." He smiled as he pointed to a chair at the table.

I smirked to myself, more thrilled than I was going to let on that someone was waiting on me for a change, and did as I was instructed.

"Mummy," Hugo tugged on my hand. "Daddy still here!" he giggled. "See!" He pointed to his dad as though I hadn't seen him until he pointed him out. "I like him, can he stay?" he asked, as though requesting to keep a stray puppy that had followed him home.

"Of course he can stay, this is his home sweetie." I tucked my little boy under the chin as he giggled at me. "I'm glad you like him though, he's pretty great, huh?" I stage whispered to him.

Hugo nodded, before skipping off to stand by Ron's side and help in any way he could, I suspected he might actually be more of a hindrance, getting under his feet, but Ron never let it be known, giving him little tasks to do and helping with the cooking when he thought it was safe.

Eventually, we all sat down to a delicious breakfast together, including Rose who had skulked in from the lounge with her book. And then sulked when I asked her to put it down whilst we were eating.

We were almost done with our breakfast, when Hugo began bouncing in his seat. "Mummy, mummy, Beau's here...he got post! It's Beau mummy!"

"Yes, I see him. Settle down." I patted his sticky hand and went to open the window for the owl. He only had two letters – one from work for me, and another that was for Ron. "This one's for you," I handed it over.

"Me?" he frowned, setting down his teacup. "But…who'd be writing to me?" he wondered.

"It erm…it looks like your mum's handwriting," I added tactfully.

"Oh." He stared at the letter as though it might bite him.

"I actually suggested she wrote to you. She had so many messages for me to pass on yesterday, I told her perhaps she should write you a letter. I hope…well, I didn't want to upset you."

"No," he decided, glancing up from his letter. "No, this…it's probably a good idea." He nodded and then got up. "You don't mind, do you?" he wondered, taking his letter away with him.

"You go read it. We'll clean up in here," I smiled at him as he wandered away, still gazing at the unopened letter.

"Mummy, Beau wants his treat!" Rose demanded curtly. I looked up where Rose was happily stroking the owls chest with the tip of her finger and crooning to him. She loved the owl and he adored her.

"What? Oh, yes, of course." I got up, still watching Ron head towards the stairs as I brought the owl treat jar over. "Don't give him too many," I warned her, wondering if Ron was going to be okay. He'd been doing so well, I didn't want anything to set him back.

We'd cleaned the kitchen and were all dressed again by the time he came back downstairs, having shut himself away in his room for awhile. He was still carrying the letter when he found us in the kitchen. Rose had wanted to make cupcakes, and wanting to keep her in a good mood, I had given in. Hugo was currently licking his spoon, whilst Rose carefully stirred the contents in the bowl.

"Don't you put your yucky spoon back in here!" She warned him.

Hugo stuck his tongue out of his very chocolaty face at her.

"Hey," I looked up from supervising when Ron found us. "Everything okay?" I asked gently, trying to gauge from his face how much the contact with his Mum had affected him.

"Erm, yeah." He stuffed the letter in his pocket. "I erm...I was wondering. Do you have any paper and stuff?" he asked, nervously.

"Sure," I wiped my hands on a tea towel. "You're going to write back?" I assumed, leading him through into the little study. "You to behave for two minutes!" I warned the children. "I'll be right back.

He shrugged, standing rather helplessly in the study as I rummaged in a drawer in my desk. "Yeah, I was thinking I might. Or even just try and write down some thoughts. I don't know," he shrugged again.

"Well, here you go." I handed him a new roll of parchment. "There's ink and quills on the desk, and if you decide to send a letter, there's envelopes in the top drawer. Beau will take it for you." I rambled on and turned to find him taking the letter from his pocket again. "Was…was your Mum okay? In the letter I mean, she didn't…"

"Nah, she was fine. Mostly just saying how much she's missed me and how happy she is I'm okay…and asking when she can see me. "

I nodded, thoughtfully, wondering myself when he'd be ready to see his parents. "Well, I'll leave you to it. I'll keep the kids out of your way for a bit," I promised him. And then came a clang and arguing from the kitchen. "I'd best get back to them." I smiled and left him alone to compose his thoughts in writing.

We didn't see Ron for a few hours after that. And, after awhile I grew tired of preventing a very impatient Hugo from bothering him. Every few minutes he was asking where he was, why he couldn't go in and what he was doing. So, in the end I took both children out to Diagon Alley to stock up on some food and potion ingredients we were low on. Along with the promise of a visit to their uncles shop if they behaved.

* * *

"Hello? Anyone home?" A voice called from the lounge.

Hugo looked up at me from the bathtub I was knelt beside as I washed his hair. "Unca Hawwy?" He gasped and made to climb from the bath.

"Hugo, wait! You still have shampoo in your hair." I tried to catch him, but he was wet and slippery and he wriggled free easily. He was racing down the stairs, completely naked, before I even had chance to stand up. "Hugo!" I called after him, chasing behind with a towel, knowing I could have stopped him with my wand – but I'd left it downstairs.

"Hey Unca Hawwy!" He squealed, reaching the front lounge and jumping into his Uncle's arms just as I reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey buddy, erm…forget something?" He looked at the naked child in his arms. Hugo just giggled and whispered something to him as I came into the room and rolled my eyes. "I think this is yours." Harry laughed and handed me my bubbly, squirming, naked son.

"Hugo Arthur Weasley, what am I going to do with you?" I asked, wrapping him in the towel. "I need to finish your hair, up those stairs now young man!"

"Hah," he laughed and shook his head.

"I said upstairs, now march!" I set him down and patted his naked behind. He slowly made his way up stairs. "Hi Harry, sorry about that. He's rather over excited at the moment," I sighed.

"That's okay. Just thought I'd pop in and see how you were all doing." He smiled.

"Great," I grinned. "Look, just give me a minute to finish up with the monster, and I'll be back down to chat, okay?"

"Sure," he nodded, totally at ease in my home. "Want me to put the kettle on?" he asked.

"That would be great." I sighed and returned upstairs to find out what Hugo was up to now. I highly doubted he'd got himself back in the bath.

Ten minutes later I was back, Hugo all washed, dry and snuggled in his pyjamas. As a homage to his father, I had continued to buy him Chudley Cannons pyjamas and he wore them with pride in the knowledge they had been his Dad's favourite team. "Sorry about that," I apologised to Harry, eyeing the coffees he had made appreciatively.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it, Lily does it to me at least twice a week," he chuckled. "I made coffee." He handed me one of the mugs. "Where's Ron?" he wondered, eyeing the third cup he'd made.

"Oh, he went out for a walk. I think he misses all the fresh air from working on the farm." I added. "And, he had a letter from his Mum today, so he probably went to think things over."

Harry nodded and leant against the kitchen counter. "So, how is it all going? How's he doing?" He asked quickly, wanting to get the conversation done before he came back or we were interrupted by children.

"He's…" I paused as I considered my answer, taking a sip of the coffee. "He's okay." I decided and led Harry through to the lounge. "He's remembered a few more things."

"He has? That's great!" Harry took a seat. "So, is he glad to be home, or…"

"I don't know. He loves the children and Hugo adores him. Though I think he just sees him as a new playmate at the moment. Rose has been...difficult, is probably the kindest way to describe it. I don't know why, but she's upset and resents him being here. She claims he's not her real daddy. It's not been easy on poor Ron, he overheard her saying she hated him yesterday and I think it broke his heart a bit."

"Poor Ron," Harry sympathised. "That's the last thing he needs to hear when he's trying to get to know everyone again. But, then it's got to be weird for the kids as well. Hugo is young enough to just get on with things, he doesn't remember how they were before, so he just accepts what you tell him. But Rose…she remembers things. She saw all the bad stuff that followed his disappearance, and…"

"She seems angry with him," I interrupted.

"Maybe she is. Maybe she blames him for making her Mummy so sad, for leaving you all alone, for not being here for her. All she really understood was he'd gone away and wasn't coming home. And now, suddenly he's back. She could be a bit jealous too. She's had you to herself, well along with Hugo, these last two years. Now she has to share you with someone else, someone she thinks hurt you."

"You could be right," I mused, drinking more of my coffee.

"Unca Hawwy, I back!" Hugo jumped down the last stair as usual and ran towards his Uncle, climbing up onto the sofa between us.

"Hey kiddo, that's better now you have clothes on." Harry ruffled his nephew's hair up as Hugo playfully batted him away.

"Guess what?" he asked Harry in a loud, conspiratorial whisper. "I got new daddy!" He told him, his eyes wide with glee as he bounced on the sofa.

Harry looked at me wide eyed as he muttered, 'Oh,' to Hugo.

I almost spluttered over my coffee. "Hugo," I put my mug down on the table. "He's not a new daddy. He's, Ron is the same daddy you've always had. The same one in all your photos from when you were a baby. I showed you the photos yesterday." I sighed, realising he didn't really understand this at all.

He nodded. "New daddy!" he repeated and clapped his hands as he giggled.

"No. Not new daddy. The same daddy…you only have one daddy. He was just…lost before, but we found him now." I tried to explain and looked to Harry for help.

"Ron's always been your dad kiddo. He was here when you were born and, well before that too. Like your Mum said, he was just lost for awhile…we couldn't find him."

"Daddy lost?" He looked worried and scrambled off the sofa, racing towards the window, knowing that Ron had gone outside.

"No. He's not lost now. He was, but now he's not." I groaned and lay my head back on the sofa. How did I get a two year old to understand this. "Look. He's just your daddy, okay? Always has been and always will be. I promise." I scooped him up and took him through to the kitchen for a glass of milk.

"Always daddy?" He asked on the way.

"Yes, always. Even when he's not here, he's your daddy and he loves you." I whispered and kissed his clean, soft ginger hair.

A burst of fresh air down the hallway heralded the fact that Ron had returned from his walk. I heard Harry and him greet each other in the other room as I handed Hugo his cup of milk and followed him back through to the lounge. Ron smiled when he saw us.

"Did you have a nice walk?" I asked, watching as Hugo approached Ron and held both arms, cup and all, up towards him. Ron, seemingly knowing what he wanted, expertly scooped him up and sat down with his son in one fluid motion – as though he'd always done it.

"I did. I wandered down towards the edge of the woods. I was thinking, might be a nice spot for a picnic one day?" H wondered.

"That sounds nice," I agreed with a nod. It would be nice to get out and do something together as a family. "Would you like a coffee?" I asked him.

"Mind if I have tea instead?" he asked.

"Course not," I smiled, remembering his preference and secretly glad it was still the same – any glimpse of my old Ron gave me hope. "Harry?" I asked, wondering if he wanted another cup.

"Thanks Hermione." He handed me the empty mugs from the coffee table, just as Rose called me from upstairs.

I looked up and sighed. "I should go, she's in the bath. Miss independent insists she can do it herself now. Until she realises she stills needs some help." I sighed, my little girl was growing up way too fast.

Harry laughed. "James has started to hide himself, well, his, erm…bits, in front of Ginny. She's mortified that he's not her baby anymore." He shook his head, probably finding us mother's a little too sentimental.

"You go see to Rosie, I'll make the drinks." Ron offered, sitting Hugo in his seat and taking the mugs from me. Hugo immediately got down to follow after his dad, as though he were his shadow.

"Daddy…" I heard him say as I made my way upstairs. "You is not my new daddy. You is my always daddy," he told him. I bit my lip, maybe he did understand. I waited for Ron's reply.

"That's right buddy. Forever and ever daddy." he promised him and I heard Hugo giggle as I inhaled deeply and went to sort out our daughter.

"So, Ron…" Harry began, once I sat down again with Rose all snugly in her unicorn pyjama's and her glass of milk. Hugo was still curled up with Ron in the armchair. To anyone looking in through a window, for all intents and purposes we'd appear to be a normal, close, loving family entertaining a friend. Although I smiled at the image it conjured, I knew we were anything but normal. I'd never felt so distant from Ron.

"Listen, I really don't want to pressure you mate. But, if you remember anything about your sister it's that she's bloo…" he glanced at the kids, "well she can be very stubborn and headstrong about things." He tactfully changed his wording. "I love her endlessly, but I also know what's she's like and that she's likely to curse me if I don't ask…and I'm rather attached to my…"

I coughed to interrupt what he was about to say as Ron chuckled, with Hugo looking up at him curiously and giggling too. Even though he had no idea what was funny.

"Erm, yeah." Harry squirmed. "Anyway, what I wanted to say was, no pressure, but Ginny is really badgering me about seeing you. Reckons it's unfair that I've seen her own brother and she hasn't. So, I was wondering, well hoping, you might be up for meeting her, soon?"

"Oh," Ron looked across at me and I noticed him stiffen slightly. I knew meeting his family still worried him, thinking that he wasn't going to be enough for them or something. "I...I don't know," he stammered.

"Might be good for you to see your sister?" I suggested gently.

"Come on mate, help a buddy out? She's driving me mental!" Harry sighed.

Ron groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. "I just...I don't. Well, how soon?" he wondered. I know he was only just beginning to feel somewhat comfortable here with the three of us. To spring more people on him might overwhelm him.

"It doesn't have to be anything huge, Ron." I continued. "We could just have lunch together or something, here. Just the four of us. So, it will only be meeting Ginny."

"Yeah, I can get a sitter for the kids. George owes us one come to think of it," Harry mused.

"Or, you could bring the kids. They can play with Rose and Hugo then, keep them entertained." I proposed, carefully wording what I was really thinking – they'd play and stay out of our way. "What do you think Ron? It's up to you. But…I know your sister loves you and how desperate she is to see you."

Ron sighed deeply, closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, fine. I'll see her."

"Great!" Harry grinned, relieved he'd have good news to take home to his wife.

"How about Saturday?" I wondered, wanting to act now before he found some excuse.

"But, that's tomorrow?" Ron spluttered.

"I know, gives you less time to get all worked up about it," I smiled at him.

"Yeah, fine," he swallowed thickly.

"Sounds great. Ginny will be thrilled."

Harry helped me take all the cups through to the kitchen when we were done, he set them in the sink and used his wand to wash them. "Well, that was a good result?" he whispered.

"Yes, it's great that he's agreed to see Ginny. It's certainly another step in the right direction."

"You'll get there Hermione." He clasped my shoulder as he set a tea towel to dry the cups magically. "He's come a long way already, remember that," he smiled at me.

I nodded and sniffed back a tear with a wet smile. "I know."

"You told me how things were for the kids with their dad being home. But, how are things for you? I mean, it must be…well, a bit weird!" He raised an eyebrow.

I gave a half laugh and nodded. "Something like that. It just," I shrugged, "I mean, it's amazing having him here. It's more than I ever dared hope for, having him back. But then in some ways it's a little awkward, you know?" I asked him.

"Well, I would assume some things are...different?" He smirked.

I slapped his arm. "Of course _that's_ different. We're married, but we're hardly a couple. He's distant at times and he goes quiet on me a lot, goes off by himself and I find myself hating that. I know it's going to take time, I know that, but," I shrugged again and sighed. "It's just, hard."

Harry grinned at me and I knew what he was thinking. I'd thought I hadn't let on too much, but he had surmised what I was getting at. I missed the intimacy between Ron and I, the physical act of being a couple. Sometimes I was afraid to touch him in fear of freaking him out and I didn't want to us to be like that. I didn't want to have to second guess being able to hug or kiss my husband. Harry was still smirking at me. I slapped his arm again as I blushed and turned to busy myself with putting the clean cups away.

"Right you two, bedtime," I clapped my hands to get the kids attention after Harry left a short time later. Hugo had been on the brink of falling asleep as it was.

"Aaw, mummy," he whined.

"It's past your bedtime already young man. Daddy can take you up if you want him to," I tried to use him as leverage. Ron willingly stood, ready to take our son up to bed.

"You mean always daddy." Hugo insisted.

"Huh?" I wondered. He hadn't got the wrong end of the stick again, had he?

"What he say mummy?" Rose looked at me, frowning.

"He our always and foreber daddy!" Hugo said, waving his hands in the air in a wide arc.

I sighed and sat down again. "Your brother is a little confused." I began to explain. "He told Uncle Harry that he had a new daddy."

Rose scowled at her brother, obviously thinking him stupid.

"But, he was only a baby when daddy went missing. He doesn't remember him like you do, and he got a bit confused. So, we had to explain that it's the same daddy he's always had…I think he's still a bit confused though," I groaned. This wasn't meant to be this hard, was it?

"Yep, same daddy," she whispered. "Daddy who left us," she added sullenly under her breath.

"Rosie…he, he didn't leave us on purpose," I attempted again. These conversations were getting old.

Ron suddenly touched my back and nodded towards her, wanting to speak to her himself. Rose folded her arms and looked away. "Rose…I know you're…perhaps cross with me, because I wasn't here, because I left you all." He knelt in front of her where she sat on the sofa. "And I know you hate how sad everyone was and how much your mummy cried. And…maybe you missed me too. And I understand that, I really do. But…I want you to know I would never, ever have left you if I could help it. I didn't want to, I'd never want to leave my beautiful little girl. But…the bad men, they hurt daddy, they hurt my head and made me forget about you, all of you."

He paused and looked up at me for guidance. I nodded and smiled through tear filled eyes, proud of him. He was doing an amazing job, better than I had. And I knew, even if Ron and I didn't make it through this, that no matter what, he was going to be a fantastic father to our children.

"I hate every day that I forgot you sweet girl, every day. Because you're beautiful and smart and kind and I know you've been such a good helper to your Mum. And I hate that I missed out on these last two years, it's not fair…and it's definitely not fair on a little girl or a little boy." He looked towards Hugo, who, having grown bored with this conversation had pulled a few toys from his chest and was sat cross legged on the floor with a dragon stamping on the toy cars my parents bought him.

Ron chuckled at him slightly, before wiping a tear from his face and daring to sit on the sofa beside his little girl. "I am so very, very sorry that you had to go through it all. So sorry that you had to be so sad and that I wasn't here for you. You know I would have been if I could, right? I would never have left my family if it were up to me. _Never._ I'm so very sorry Rosie girl."

I bit my bottom lip, tears escaping my eyes as I dashed them away quickly, waiting for a response from her. Ron's words had been sincere, I knew that, but did a four year old? Hugo looked up briefly and frowned at everyone, wondering why things were all serious. Thinking perhaps he was in trouble he put his toys back into the box and stared shame faced at me, until I held out my hand and he smiled as he skipped over.

Rose continued to stare at us in silence, her expression sad. I was afraid she was about to yell at her dad again, tell him she hated him and he should get out. But instead she let out a deep breath and looked up at her daddy. Ron smiled at her.

I held my breath then as she reached up and brushed a tear from her own eye before crawling into his lap. More tears rolled down my cheeks when she cuddled into him, rested her head against his chest and whispered barely audibly. "Never ever leave us again daddy," and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

Ron bit back a sob, he had tears rolling down his cheeks as well. He cuddled her back and whispered. "I'll do my very, very best Rosie Posie, I promise." And then he kissed the top of her head as she closed her eyes and went to sleep with her daddy.

I gasped at his use of her old nickname, the nickname he had started from the second she was born and we knew we had our Rose. And then Ron caught my eye, both of us in tears of happiness, we smiled at one another.

* * *

Until next week then...


	13. Chapter 13

_A couple of days late posting, sorry! (It is a slightly longer chapter though!) Had a great time at London Film and Comic Con last weekend - met Michael Gambon (Dumbledore), David Bradley (Mr Filch) and some other movie stars, as well as spending a small fortune on more HP merch, but I have been poorly since then with a nasty cold (or the plague :p) so have only just got this chapter edited. _

_Thanks as always for your feedback...it's always most welcome :)_

_Disclaimer: Not JK Rowling, just a fan loving her magical world!_

**Chapter Thirteen**

Lunch with Ginny the next day had gone, well, a lot better than I had expected. Even with Ginny being her usual exuberant and chatty self. The moment the Potter's had stepped from the floo, she'd rushed towards her brother and flung her arms around him. Ron had stiffened at first, but then relaxed into the hug and smiled. And then she slapped his upper arm.

"You little twerp, putting us through all that. I can't believe you've been playing farmers all this time." She slapped him again.

Ron backed off, rubbing his arm with such a wounded expression before giving me a rather puzzled look.

"Don't worry," I laughed. "You're like this all the time. She loves you really."

"Oh," he nodded, a smile forming on his lips. "In that case, nice to you see you too, prat!" He laughed as he tugged on the end of her braid and she squealed at him.

And just like that, the pair of them relaxed around one another, joking back and forth, chatting away and seemed completely comfortable with each other. Harry smiled at me, obviously pleased this was going well. And, whilst I was thrilled Ron was so relaxed with his sister, an insane part of me was jealous too. Jealous at how easy their relationship had been to pick up again. Jealous even that both of the children were now clamouring for his attention and affection. Rose seemed to have forgiven her daddy and almost worshipped him as much as her brother. It seemed all he'd had to do was apologise to her, reassure her he wasn't leaving again and all the resentment and sadness was gone.

So, why were things so difficult for us? Why did I still feel so…apprehensive and shy around him? We were friendly and we chatted, but we seemed more like friends than a husband and wife. Was that why? Because we had an intimate history together? Because I knew him probably better than anyone else? Was he embarrassed to realise how well I knew him? The things we'd shared and everything? Was that what made it difficult for us? I was still a little upset that he hadn't remembered much about us, about our love for one another, our times together or the way he felt about me. And yet, I felt as though I had to put on a smile for everyone and make out everything was perfectly fine now – a happy ever after fairytale ending. I found myself repeating over and over how it was just going to take time for things to return to normal, though, I was starting to wonder whether that fact only applied to the two of us. Apparently it was easy with everyone else.

I knew I should just be grateful that he was here. That he was alive and we got a second chance at happiness. And I was, I really was. Having my husband home again, having my children's father back was beyond anything I had ever hoped for. I had another shot at my happily ever after. But, getting there wasn't easy, not only for him. But myself. I missed him, as stupid as that sounded when he was living under the same roof once more. But, I missed his hugs and his touch. I missed those little kisses in passing and the freedom to do that. And it hurt, it really did hurt that I felt as though I couldn't just give him a hug or a playful kiss. And being alone in that bedroom was pure torture. He was my husband, but I don't think we'd been so close and yet so far away from one another since that diabolical sixth year of school where we'd barely spoken to one another for four months.

We had taken a picnic lunch to the place Ron had suggested the day before and it really was lovely. The weather had been kind – sunny with a gentle breeze. The adults had sprawled out on the blanket, chatting and relaxing whilst the children played in the magically cordoned off area where they couldn't get themselves into trouble. Not that the children were aware of it. If they got too close to the edge of the magic, it just compelled them to turn around and go the other way. At least we knew they were safe.

"So, how about Mum and Dad?" Ginny dared ask, popping another strawberry into her mouth.

Ron shrugged. "She wrote to me yesterday, Mum did. She asked the same thing, well amongst other stuff. I replied to her, but said I didn't know about seeing them yet."

"Why? You've been fine with me! And she wants to see you terribly…she's been through so much these last few years. She's our Mum, Ron. And…"

"I know, but she's going to get really emotional and stuff, isn't she?" He grimaced. "And…I don't know if I can handle that yet. I will see her soon, I promise, just…give me a few more days."

Ginny nodded, but wouldn't let it go. "So, how about next weekend then?" She wondered. "We could have dinner, the six of us?"

"Ginny," Ron whined, sounding very much like his teenage self.

"Yes," she mimicked back.

He laughed at her, tugged on her braid and then jumped up suddenly, chasing after the kids and making them all scream and Ginny chased after her brother. They led them down to the stream and I could hear squeals of laughter followed by splashes.

I sighed and rolled onto my stomach, picking a daisy from the meadow and slowly plucked the petals off. An old childish Muggle rhyme came to mind, 'he loves me, he loves me not', and I spoke the words in my head as another petal came off in my fingers.

"What's up?" Harry asked, watching me.

"Nothing," I smiled at him. "It's been a lovely afternoon."

"It has. But you've not been here for all of it. I've been watching you, you keep drifting away."

"Do I?" I worried, picking off a couple more petals.

"I don't think they noticed. Too busy catching up and…sibling stuff. They seem to be getting on really well." He looked towards the clump of tree's that was hiding the stream from our view.

"Yeah," I sighed.

"Is that it?" He wondered.

"Is that what?" I dropped another petal into the grass.

"Are you, maybe…you know…" Harry groaned and pulled his glasses off to wipe them on his T-shirt.

"Am I maybe what?" I looked up at him, squinting through the sun.

"Jealous maybe? You know, because they're getting on so well and slipped straight back into their relationship so easily and…"

"No," I snapped.

"Hermione…"

I groaned and flipped onto my back, tossing the half torn apart daisy aside and shielded my eyes from the sun with my arm. "I just…I wish it was as easy for me and him, you know? Everything is still so tentative around one another. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells all the time, terrified I'll do or say something wrong and he'll scurry back to that farm and hide. I want my husband, Harry. Not just a friend. I want the man I love and married."

"I know you do," He nudged my ankle with his foot. "I know you're sick of hearing this, but…be patient."

"I know that," I snapped at him and then instantly regretted it. "Sorry," I mumbled. "It's just…" I sighed and turned to look at him, propping myself up on my elbow. "How the hell can he remember stupid stuff like Quidditch scores and league tables, or the taste of Butter beer. Yet he can't remember his kids, or me…his wife? The one person he's probably closest to. And now seems totally uncomfortable with."

"Maybe because you are too close. You two share a…well, a deep bond, something special." he blushed a little and fiddled with his glasses again. "I mean, you know Ron – anything personal and he gets embarrassed about it. Perhaps the more personal, the harder it is for him to remember? I mean, you're different from everyone else. What you two have…"

"What we had," I pouted.

"And will get back," he retorted. "It's just very different…there's an intimacy between the two of you that I'm not sure even Ginny and I understand. I mean…obviously she and I love one another deeply and we're close and, well, yeah," he coughed to hide his embarrassment. "But you and Ron, you had…this kind of epic romance thing. I mean, you two have always had an intense relationship, even before you acted on those romantic feelings that had been smouldering away for years – why should this be any different? You're both very passionate and intense people and...as soon as he remembers..."

"And what if he never does?"

"He will," he replied confidently.

I raised my eyebrows, doubting his statement.

"He will Hermione. I I have to smack it into him, he'll remember eventually and you can continue your epic love or whatever it is. I prom…" He broke off as we heard a huge splash come from the stream, followed by a sharp scream, laughter and then tears.

I groaned as I sat up, peering into the trees where they had disappeared to. "I bet that's my son." I muttered.

Harry laughed. "Could be one of mine." He got up on his knees, about to go see what was going on when Ron appeared from the trees, with a wet, soggy child in his arms.

"Sorry! Hugo fell in," he called, hurrying towards us.

I shot Harry an 'I told you so' look, before getting up and going to rescue my son. He was at least smiling again by the time I met them. "Now what did you do?" I asked.

"Chasing fwogs!" he told me, a little pout on his bottom lip. "Fell off wock," he added.

I shook my head as Ron grinned sheepishly. "Trust you," I sighed. "Did you hurt yourself?" I wondered, checking him over for any sign of injury.

Hugo shook his head.

"Think the cold water just took him by surprise," Ron answered. "And then he got upset cause the other kids laughed at him." He smiled reassuringly at his son, before setting him on his feet.

"Come on then, let's get you dry." I led them back to the blanket where I rummaged in my bag which contained everything you could possibly need for an afternoon out with children. Yet it was barely bigger than a clutch bag. I bet Wizard's could make a fortune marketing this to the Muggles, I thought drolly.

Within a couple of minutes, I had him completely dry using magic and then dressed in clean clothes. I hadn't finished tying his laces before he was itching to run off again. "And no more chasing frogs!" I warned him, sending him off with a pat on his bottom.

"You're amazing." Ron grinned at me. "Totally brilliant," he added in an awed voice, before chasing after his son.

"See?" Harry asked once they were clear of earshot. "You'll get it all back," he nodded knowingly.

* * *

Ron's anxiety increased daily throughout that week, anticipating dinner with his parents that Ginny had insisted on arranging. I kept telling him it would be fine, that his parents just loved him and were simply grateful to have him home safely. He had nothing to worry about. Although I knew that didn't prevent him from working himself up about it.

Besides some lame memory of a Quidditch match his brother, Bill, had taken him to just before he started his first year at Hogwarts, there had been no further breakthrough with his memory. At least nothing he told me about. I suspected that may be because he was too anxious about this weekend.

Still, the children kept him as distracted as possible. Since Rosie had come around, they both demanded his attention and he was lapping it up. He spent every moment he could with them, trying to divide his time equally – as though he was making up for the lost years. Personally, I thought he was spoiling them – giving in to their every whim and incapable of uttering a cross word or reprimand them for anything. Not that I said anything – I could hardly deny him this time with his kids. And, I admit, it was a delight to see the three of them together, playing imaginary games in the garden, piled together to read a book or enjoying tea parties with Rose and flying dragons with Hugo.

And yet, my heart ached a little too. I kept telling myself that I was being stupid, but...I felt a little excluded by the three of them. Daddy was new and exciting – a novelty right now and he didn't know how to say no to them, or he just didn't want to. Mummy was strict and bossy and boring in comparison. The children had been my salvation these past couple of years and now they had all but cast me adrift on a tide of my own conflicted emotions.

Ron and I seemed to have reached a stale mate of sorts. We were friendly and chatted over meals, but it sort of felt like I had a lodger in the house. Everything about him was so familiar to me, and yet he was almost like a stranger as well. After the children were in bed at night, he'd often go to his room and I felt so alone. I was beginning to think he was only staying for the sake of the children.

Neither one of us seemed prepared to talk about things. At least, not about us…or what we wanted. Damnit! We were absurd teenagers back at Hogwarts all over again – not daring to say how we really felt about each other or what we really wanted for fear of being rejected and hurt.

But I knew one thing. Someone was going to have to say or do something, otherwise I feared the pair of us as a couple were completely doomed.

* * *

"Are you ready?" I asked Ron on Saturday evening. We were stood in the front room together, preparing to leave for his parents house.

Nervously he fiddled with his clothes again and straightened his hair, stalling for time. "The kids will be alright, yeah?" he asked me for the third time.

"Perfectly fine. My parents love having them over and they like being there." I smiled. "But, we can pick them up really early tomorrow, okay? I promised Rose we would anyway." I added.

Ron nodded and inhaled deeply.

"Come on then." I picked up my bag. "The sooner we get there, the sooner it will be done and you'll realise there was nothing to worry about."

He nodded and fixed a smile on his face that I knew was for my benefit. Then, I held my hand out for him.

"Probably easier if I apparate us both there," I explained. He took my hand, I relished in the touch of his warm skin on mine as I gave him a short smile. A quick spin, a flick of my wand and a second later we landed gracefully in the paddock opposite the house. Ron let go of my hand the instant we landed and I looked up at him. "Remember it?" I asked him, as he stood gazing up and down at the house.

"Yeah, kinda. Well, maybe…it looks exactly as it did in my dream anyway." He smiled at me.

"Come on then." I took a step towards the house where I could hear other voices and laughter. I assumed Molly must have the wireless on again whilst she was cooking. She did that a lot these days, always complaining the house was far too quiet since the children all left home.

Before we made it to the front door, Ginny came bounding down the few steps, slamming the door behind her as she rushed to meet us. "Wow, am I glad you didn't use the floo network, was hoping I'd catch you before you went in." She stood in front of us, wringing her hands with a look of worry on her face.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" I wondered, glancing towards the house. I saw someone walk past the window and then another person. "Is someone else here?" I asked.

She sighed and shook her head sorrowfully. "I'm so sorry Ron. Mum, she got the wrong end of the stick when I talked to her about this. I mean, her heart is in the right place, but…she just didn't think."

"What's she done?" I asked, noticing the smile on Ron's face quickly dropping as he stared at his sister anxiously.

"Invited everyone…and I mean _everyone_," she groaned.

"Everyone?" I yelped.

Ginny nodded. "The entire family. Brothers, their wives, the kids. Even Charlie is back from Romania tonight. It's, well…it's a welcome home party apparently," she shrugged helplessly. "I'm so sorry Ron, I wanted it to be nice and quiet for you, just the six of us. Mum just got over excited."

He stared at his sister in silence as though she was winding him up.

"Ron?" I spoke his name gently.

"I can't," he muttered and took a step backwards. "I can't go in there."

"But…your Mum?"

"I can't do it Hermione," he snapped at me. "I want to go home."

"Mum will be so disappointed," Ginny added sadly. Someone inside laughed rather loudly then and Ron flinched, his eyes going wide.

He shook his head at his sister. "I'm sorry, I can't deal with everyone yet."

"Oh, of course you can!" She snapped at him then, losing patience already – she'd always lacked patience. "It's just your family, not a bunch of Death Eaters you know. They're not going to hurt you. It's only us, family."

"I know that. But…it's just, it's too much Ginny." He hissed under his breath.

"I'll be right here with you," I reminded him.

"You know you'll break Mum's heart if you go home now. I know she messed up, but she just got too excited about her son coming home. Can't you understand that?" Ginny argued with him in a way I had been too afraid to do since I'd brought him home.

"Ginny…" he grumbled.

"Just come inside, just for a little while," she softened her voice. "Everyone understands. They'll be fine."

"Come on Ron, you've come this far. At least go inside and say hello to everyone, stay for a drink or something and then, if you really can't deal with it, we'll leave. Okay?"

He huffed and sulked as he folded his arms.

"Never thought you were a coward!" Ginny shot at him.

"I'm not!" he shot back furiously. "Fine, okay. We'll go in. And all these people I don't know will crowd me and it will be a nightmare and it's all your fault." He pointed his finger at his sister accusingly.

"They won't," she assured him. "I told them all to give you space. Come on." She grabbed his arm and began to drag him towards the door.

"You'll be fine," I patted his shoulder and gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

The moment the door opened and Ginny pulled him inside, the room went deathly silent as every head turned to look at him. Ron stood there like a deer caught in headlights and beginning with his ears, his face turned slowly red from all the attention. If Ginny hadn't had a tight grip on his arm and I wasn't standing behind him, I think he'd have made a run for it.

Slowly, the faces of his family broke into huge smiles and his Mum burst into silent tears in the corner of the kitchen.

I wondered if perhaps Ginny had warned everyone off too much, as no one moved for a few moments. Until his dad stepped forwards and held his hand out to him. "Welcome home son, welcome home," he grinned, about to shake hands, but then thought better of it and hugged his son gently, in that awkward way that grown men hug. "It's so good to see you again," he muttered as he squeezed Ron once and then took a step back, an elated grin still on his weathered face.

"You too Dad," he murmured, giving him a fleeting smile.

Arthur patted him on the back and led him a little further into the room. A sudden loud cry from his Mother startled him though and then she barrelled into him as she flung her arms around his neck, sobbing. "Oh Ronnie, I can't believe you're here. My boy, my baby boy." She sobbed as she clung to him.

Ron stiffened as he looked to me for help whilst patting her back most awkwardly. It was obvious he didn't know what to do.

"Mum," Ginny hissed, "give him some room to breathe!" she reminded her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she backed away and wiped her eyes. "I'm just…I can't believe you're here. I'm so happy you're safe and you're home. We got you back." She went to hug him again.

"I'm here Mum, I'm here," he murmured to her as he hugged her back tentatively.

"Come on Molly, love. Let's just go check on dinner, shall we?" Arthur took her hand and gently led her away. "Ron's not going anywhere yet, are you son?" He looked over his shoulder at Ron and gave a hopeful smile.

"Erm, no," he shook his head, unable to disappoint them.

The moment they had departed, another red head was suddenly in front of him. "Sorry about Mum," he rolled his eyes. "We tried to reign her in, but you know. Or you probably don't actually," he laughed and pounded him on the back good naturedly. "But, you'll soon remember how…excitable she can get." he sighed. "Good to have you back though little bother. Not half as fun to wind the others up as it is you."

"George?" he asked.

"Yep, that's me? What gave it away? I bet it's the damn ear, right?" He pointed to the lack of his left ear.

Ron gawped at him, although he had seen photos, I don't think he realised he actually had lost his ear, there was just a hole in the side of his head. He glanced back at me, silently asking me why I'd never told him.

George laughed. "Yeah, bet Hermione never told you about that. Never mind, rather interesting story. I'll erm, tell you some other time," he coughed as he caught my eye. I was still avoiding any topics to do with the war as best I could.

Ron chuckled half heartedly, but still looked concerned about his brother's missing ear. I should have warned him, I kicked myself. But then I hadn't expected him to be here, so it wasn't really my fault.

After that, the rest of his brothers all shook his hand, one by one. They didn't crowd him as Ginny had promised, but they came to him one by one as they introduced themselves, welcomed him home and introduced their wives again. All except Charlie.

"I prefer my dragons, see," he chuckled. "Not got time for a woman with them to deal with. Mind you, think sometimes a woman's bite is worse than a dragon, eh?" Charlie nudged Ron.

Ron blushed, but didn't answer his question I was happy to note.

"Hugo will be disappointed he missed you," I added, standing reassuringly beside Ron.

"Yeah, where is the little rugrat? I had some new tales for him."

"At my parents," I replied. "We erm…well we didn't realise everyone would be here. Thought it was going to be a quiet dinner," I whispered to him as Molly was busy bringing out plate after plate of food.

"Yeah, Ginny said Mum went over the top," he sighed. "Still, never mind Ron, had to meet us all sooner or later. We're not that bad, really…though perhaps a good job you can't remember some of the mean stunts Bill and I played on you as a kid." he laughed loudly in his deep booming voice. "Mind you, we weren't half as bad as the twins," he added and patted his shoulder on his way to steal some of the food being laid out. I caught Molly smacking his hand and whispering something about saving those for Ronnie.

Rather than the quiet, reserved sit down dinner I'd thought we were attending, Molly had prepared a huge buffet, the table was groaning under the weight of all the food already and yet she was still bringing more out.

"How's it going?" Harry found us and hid a pumpkin pasty behind his back. I raised my eyebrows at him. "Yeah, don't worry…she already caught me and told me off. Apparently Ron is supposed to have first pick." He rolled his eyes as he lifted the pasty and took a bite. "So, how you doing?" He asked his friend through a mouthful of food.

Giving the boys chance to talk, I touched Ron's back gently as I left him in the capable hands of Harry. I'd just spied Fleur in the lounge and wanted to apologise for our son's behaviour at her house the other week. Only we then got trading tales about our children and opinions on how best to deal with them, before she asked me about Ron and how things were. I lost track of time as I tried to explain how I felt, until Ginny nudged me.

"I think maybe Ron could do with rescuing," she whispered to me. I looked up and followed her gaze. Harry had been corralled into a conversation with Arthur, no doubt about work. Whilst Ron had been penned into a corner by his mother. I could hear her voice over everyone else's, trying to push more food on him.

"I made all your favourites Ron," she told him, looking down at the rather empty plate he was holding. "Hermione said your appetite was just the same, but you do look skinny to me." She hugged his shoulders. "So, look, I have sausages, pumpkin pasties, some sausage rolls. We have butterbeer, would you like a butterbeer? I can make you a bacon sandwich if you prefer, I know you really liked those. Oh, and I made you some cauldron cakes…or there's…

I groaned under my breath. I knew she meant well, she was just the mothering sort. Only, Ron looked as though he was being smothered by her. "You go get him and I'll distract Mum," Ginny shoved me towards him.

"Mum, this is fine, really." I heard him tell her politely and offer her a smile.

"Mum, did Lily leave her unicorn here again the other day?" Ginny touched Molly's arm as she spun around to face her. "We can't find it anywhere, and getting her to sleep at night has been a nightmare without it," she sighed over dramatically.

"Her unicorn? I haven't seen it. love. But, we can have a look." She followed Ginny into the lounge, saying something about her playing behind the sofa in there.

"Hey, you okay?" I sidled over to Ron once the coast was clear. He looked up at me from his half eaten chicken sandwich.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Mum's a bit much though." He shrugged and set his plate down.

"Need a break?" I asked, taking the left over sausage roll from his plate and nibbling at it. "We could go upstairs for a bit, find your old room? That might jolt some memories, or something?" I suggested.

"Sounds good," he nodded eagerly, wanting to escape all the attention. Only half way to the stairs, we were stopped by an inquisitive little boy.

"Are you a ghost?" He asked Ron.

"Huh?" He asked his nephew. "A ghost?" He looked to me and frowned.

"Freddie," I laughed at the seven year old. "What in Merlin's beard are you…"

"Yeah, you know," he continued. "Like…when dead people turn into ghosts. Are you one?"

Ron chuckled lightly, finding the kid amusing. "Nah buddy, just a regular person."

"Oh….but my daddy said you died, like my Uncle Fred and you went to heaven. But now you're here. So, I thought maybe you was ghost?" He looked puzzled as he tilted his head to the side and waited for an answer.

"Nope. Still just a regular person. I didn't really die," he whispered to him.

"Oh…was you pretending?" he whispered back.

Ron just laughed.

"Freddie! Are you bothering your Uncle Ron?" Angelina came to save us from the mischief maker.

"No Mummy," he shook his head. "I was just checking, and he's not a ghost!" He told her matter-of-factly as he wandered back towards the food on the table.

"Great, thanks for that." She frowned and shook her head, watching her son head towards the kitchen. "And no more of that chocolate cake young man!" she warned her son. "I'm sorry," she turned back to Ron. "He's a bit confused about...all this," she waved her hand in the air. "And he likes to know everything," she sighed.

"Don't worry about it. He was sort of amusing," Ron replied.

Angelina nodded thoughtfully and then smiled at Ron, her old school team mate who was now her brother-in-law. "So…you don't remember any of our school Quidditch matches together then?"

"Erm, no. Not really. " He shook his head.

"Good," she laughed. "Because…the year I was captain, I was a bit of a bitch. Would hate for you to remember me like that," she chuckled.

Ron smiled at her. "I'm sure you weren't that bad."

"Nah, I was much worse!" she laughed. "Right Hermi…" she drifted off, peering around the wall into the kitchen, "Freddie! No!" she suddenly shouted and was inching away. "Sorry, have to sort him out." She darted off, just as Fred managed to pull an entire cake off the table and onto his own head. Angelina could be heard shouting at him as we made our way towards the stairs.

"Hey! Where you two sneaking off to?" George asked, nonplussed about his son currently getting a telling off. I suppose when you had Fred for a child, it was a common occurrence hearing him in trouble.

"I was just going to show him around the house. See if he can remember anything." I told him.

"Oh yeah," George waggled his eyebrows knowingly. "Like the last time we were all here together for a party, and the two of you disappeared?" he teased. "Could bloody hear the pair of you a mile away!" He laughed loudly and the tips of Ron's ears turned red again.

"George!" I slapped him, pushing Ron towards the stairs away from him, though quietly adding to myself that a chance would be a fine thing.

Ron had gone quiet as we slowly climbed the stairs of his childhood home. I could tell what George had said had embarrassed him, heck, it embarrassed me too. But with Ron, any suggestion that he and I had once been intimate together seemed like a taboo subject right now. I wasn't sure whether it was just because he didn't remember it and was mortified others knew more about his sex life than he did, or that just the thought of sleeping with me horrified him. Perhaps it was both?

"George was just teasing, you know." I spoke to his back as his long legs took the steps two at a time. I had to hurry to keep up with him.

"Mmm," he mumbled in reply.

"He's always tormented you a lot, anything to make you blush. Nice, in a way, that he's just treating you the same." I added, rambling to fill the uneasy silence between us.

"Was that true?" He suddenly asked me, as we paused on the second landing.

"What true? That he teases you, or…what he said?"

"What he said. Did we really…do that?" His face took on a look of something akin to disgust or maybe it was shame.

"Erm…" I blushed as I was forced to confess. "It's highly probable at some point, yes." I nodded, feeling my face flush rather warm. "I mean, I'm not sure if it really was the last time we were all together, but…well, you know. We had a erm, er…" I was beginning to sweat now. "Well, we had…a…healthy love life," I finally finished and then hid my face with my hair as I rolled my eyes at myself.

"Oh." He replied simply, his face now having joined his ears in turning red. Suddenly needing to avoid one another, he turned and climbed the stairs even faster, as though he could run away from his embarrassment.

"Do you know where you're going?" I called after him, trying to keep up.

"My room," he muttered.

"You know where that is?" I asked, incredulously.

"At the top, where it's always been," he replied, finding my question ridiculous. "Oh…" he gasped then as he got what I meant. "I remember…" he grinned back at me as he now raced up the last flight of stairs. I reached his side just as he pushed open the door. "Orange," he muttered, glancing around. The room was still very much bedecked in his favourite Cannons colours, right down to the old Cannon's bedspread on the bed. "It seems so small," he mumbled, taking a few steps inside, looking around at everything.

"Well, depends when you remember it. From your childhood, you were a lot smaller then, so the room would have seemed bigger. It's been awhile since you were in here." I looked around as well. I didn't think there had been anyone in the room since Ron's disappearance. Once upon a time, Molly used to let the children play in here. But after he had gone missing, the room was out of bounds and treated almost like a shrine to him.

Hesitantly he sat down on the bed, gazing at the walls, reading posters still stuck here and there, looking over trinkets that must have meant something to him at one time or another. Things he hadn't bothered packing when we moved. I noticed, stuffed high on a teetering pile of junk on a shelf, was even Scabbers old travelling cage.

"I don't think anyone has touched anything in here for awhile," I told him. "Look, here's your old school trunk." It was poking out from under his bed where I had accidentally kicked it when walking across to join him.

Ron slid off the bed and onto the floor on his knees as he pulled the trunk out. "Wonder if any of my old school stuff is still in it," he murmured to himself as he cautiously lifted the lid. And then slammed it shut again. "Eurgh! It stinks!" he groaned and held his nose. "Whatever is that smell?" He took his wand from his pocket. A few days ago I'd happily noted he'd started carrying his wand around with him more often and using magic again without thinking about it, as though he'd never stopped. This time he opened the lid quickly, stuck his wand inside and muttered a charm to mask the smell until he could locate it.

On the top lay a few old school books that had seen better days. A couple of school ties and an old threadbare jumper. He tossed those aside to discover scraps of parchment, broken, old quills with ink splatters everywhere. A couple of letters from home that looked as though they had been read more times than he would care to admit to. And underneath those he found the cause of the smell – a muddy, sweaty old sock all rolled up with a bag of rather mouldy old Bertie Botts Beans. Screwing up his nose, he disposed of both the beans and the sock before scrabbling around amongst the dust and clutter of his memories at the bottom. Another pile of chocolate frog cards – did he have those things everywhere? More torn and screwed up pieces of parchment, spilled potion ingredients that were adding to the foul smell and then a tiny little figure of a man, missing an arm.

He picked it up, gazed at it for a moment and then quickly tossed it aside. In my brief glimpse at it, I'd thought it looked like a Quidditch player wearing the Bulgarian colours, though couldn't imagine why it only had one arm. Until I suddenly recalled Ron buying a moving figure of Viktor Krum at the World Cup we'd all attended just before our fourth year. Obviously the charm had worn off it now as the toy lay perfectly still. But had it broken by itself or had a rather jealous and childish 14 year old had something to do with it?

And then, as he moved another sock, he found his prefect badge. "I was a prefect?" he asked me, from where I sat watching him on the bed.

I nodded. "Yes, though a rather reluctant one," I smiled. "It wasn't something you really wanted…and the twins teased you mercilessly about it. But, you were actually quite good at it when you could be bothered. The other students responded to you better than me. I think they saw you as more of an equal. Me, they probably thought I was just too bossy."

"Can't imagine why," he muttered under his breath.

"Hey!" I nudged his thigh with the tip of my toe. "You carry on looking anyway, I'm just going to the bathroom," I excused myself and left him to his memories as he pulled out two halves of a broken wand and frowned at it. Can't imagine why he'd kept it in his trunk all these years. Except of course that he'd hated to clean anything.

On my way down the stairs towards the bathroom on the third floor, I bumped into Molly on her way up. "Oh, have you seen Ron dear? I was hoping to catch him alone for a moment."

"He's in his old room, going through his old school trunk," I explained.

"Good, thank you," she smiled and adjusted the knitted items over her arm that she was carrying. "I'll just go up and find him then. Be nice to have a little chat together, away from all the noise," she added, already climbing the stairs – rather sprightly for someone of her age.

I took my time in the bathroom, wanting to give Ron and his Mum some time alone. They needed to talk and I was so glad he'd finally agreed to come here, even if it wasn't what we'd been expecting. But I could understand her over excitement, I could only imagine how hard this had been on her. Heaven forbid if it had been one of my children.

Playing with my hair to waste some time, I was suddenly alarmed when I heard a yell from upstairs and then thundering footsteps coming down the stairs. I poked my head out and caught Ron sprint past me in almost a blur, muttering to himself how he couldn't do this, that it was too damn much.

"Ron!" I chased after him, wondering what had gone wrong. "Ron, wait! What's the matter?" I chased him into the lounge where he paused and looked around frantically. Harry called him over and then Bill. But he ignored the both of them, making a beeline for the back door, as though that was all he could see.

"Want a drink son?" Arthur asked him as he ran through the kitchen.

He ignored him and raced past him.

"Ron!" I yelled him again.

"What is it?" Ginny raced over to me, followed swiftly by Harry as Arthur looked on concerned.

I paused and looked at them panic stricken. "I don't know. I left him in his room and your Mum went to talk to him. Next thing I know he's making a break for it." I explained breathlessly.

"I'll go after him," Harry offered, gently pushing aside his wife.

"No…just give me a minute with him," I touched his shoulder. "You should stay here, reassure everyone it's fine. Ginny…you might want to check on your Mum?" I suggested and already I was racing through the kitchen towards the door Ron had recently slammed behind him. I hoped I wasn't too late, that he hadn't already apparated away.

Thankfully I spotted him down the garden, besides his dad's work shed, where he stood pausing for breath with his hands on his knees and breathing heavily. "What happened?" I demanded when I caught up with him.

He breathed heavily for a few more seconds before pacing across the garden, not looking at me. "I don't know," he finally huffed, shaking his head as he began to pace around the garden. "She came to my room, said she wanted to give me my Christmas presents from the last couple of years….the Weasley family jumpers, you know them?" He looked back at me. I nodded, wondering if he did, but continued to listen.

"It was a bit weird, but it was alright at first. Only, then she started going on about how much she's missed me and how devastating it was for her to think she'd lost another son, then she started talking about Fred…and she just burst into tears!" He kicked a rock and watched as it rolled across the grass before going on. "She was all over me Hermione," he glanced up, "crying and stuff. I didn't know what to do. She was just sobbing so much and muttering something about a war and us being on the run or something and…I just couldn't do it. I felt like she was smothering me." He kicked at a discarded rusty old cauldron who's bottom had burnt through – I suspected it had possibly been a casualty of the twins experiments. It skittered loudly across the garden.

"But, you were doing so well," I sighed, feeling rather disappointed. "And it's understandable she's going to be emotional. This whole thing is emotional…everything about it."

He just shrugged and leant back against the shed, letting his head fall back and bump the wall. "I know," he muttered quietly and closed his eyes, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. I waited, folding my arms across my chest. "What haven't you been telling me?" he opened his eyes and glared at me accusingly. "How _did_ my brother lose his ear? What is this war I've heard mentioned at least three times tonight. And why the hell were we on the run or something? What is this big secret you keep saying you'll tell me later? Don't you think I need to know these things?" he demanded.

"And when do I get chance to talk to you about anything?" I glared back and raised my eyebrows in question. "You're always with the children, and then you disappear to your room once they go to bed, like you can't stand to be around me, let alone talk to me!" I hissed the words at him.

"I don't know how to act around you anymore!" he muttered.

"So, instead of even trying, you just hide behind our children, like a coward?"

"I am not a coward!" he yelled at me and kicked at a rock, that tuned out to be a garden gnome, causing Ron to jump back in alarm. The gnome glared at him, then went back to pulling a worm from the ground.

"Says the man who just caused a scene running away from his own mother because she was crying over him!" I retorted icily.

"It's too damn much Hermione! She's too damn much…I just, I can't? Okay?" he snapped and began to pace again.

"Oh. I'm sorry," I began. "So sorry that you have a family who love you and missed you and have been upset about you being gone. That must be so hard for you, knowing that people care about you. You poor thing!" I mocked him. I'd about had it with his pity party. I knew all this was strange for him, but dammit – they only cared.

"What?" he looked up at me in stunned silence.

"You're being pathetic!" I spat at him.

"What the bloody hell do you know about what I'm going through?" He suddenly lunged to the floor and picked up the gnome, who had happily been munching on his worm. Angrily, Ron tossed him violently into the next field. "Just, stop fucking pushing me Hermione…this is bloody hard for me and you know it!"

"Really?" I cocked an eyebrow at him and folded my arms again. "And I suppose you think the last two years have been easy for me, huh? _You forgot u__s! _YOU weren't mourning for anyone. You didn't have to tell your children their daddy was never coming home. You didn't have to bury the only person you have ever loved with your whole heart. You didn't have to force yourself out of bed every damn day, when all you really wanted to do was roll over and never wake up, ever again…rather than face the world alone." Tears were now running unchecked down my face.. "No! You, you had it bloody easy in comparison…you just forgot about everything. I had to live through it all and somehow find the strength to go on. So don't you dare tell me I don't understand things being tough. The last two years have been a bloody nightmare for me!"

Ron's mouth opened and closed, struggling for something to reply with. "I…well, I just – I…that's totally beside the point!" he chopped his hand through the air.

"The hell it is!" I hissed angrily at him. "Don't you whine about this being hard, when you know nothing about it. Nothing!"

"You don't understand…" he began.

"Neither do you!" I shot back and took my wand out, preparing to turn on the spot.

"Wait!" Ron yelled, recognising the action I was about to make. "Where are you going?" he asked a little softer.

"My parents, to see our kids. You can stay here, or go home. Or…quite frankly Ronald, right now I don't care what the hell you do!" And with that, I completed my spin and disapparated, already regretting my words. Of course I cared what he did. If he left us now, it wouldn't only break my heart, it would destroy our children.

Hope you liked...more next week!


	14. Chapter 14

_Thank you as always for all of your amazing reviews - I love how involved you get with this story, however I don't think this is the chapter some of you were hoping for._

_This chapter is entirely from Ron's point of view. This will be the only chapter with Ron as first person, but I thought it fit here and it was interesting to see what's going on inside his head. I hope you like it..._

_Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, sadly. _

**Chapter Fourteen**

**_Ron's POV_**

I stood gaping at the spot Hermione had disapparated from for some minutes after, not quite believing she had left me here and feeling more alone than ever. It was something of a shock to realise how much I had grown to depend on her in such a short space of time. "Fuck it!" I hissed, throwing my hands in the air and in the process, flinging my head back I managed to whack it on the shed behind me. "Fuck…" I muttered under my breath, that hurt. Heaving a huge pitiful sigh, I slid down the side of the shed and sat in the grass, my hands buried in my hair with my head on my knees. "Well done Ron," I muttered to myself. "Cocked this one up, didn't you?"

"You know, they say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness," I heard a female voice chuckle as it came towards me.

I looked, hoping Hermione had come back. And then felt my expression drop when I saw it was just my sister approaching.

"Nice to see you too bro," she snorted at the look on my face. "Especially when I come bearing gifts." She waved a bottle at me and a couple of glasses she'd obviously swiped from the house. "I saw Hermione leave and, well...thought you might need some of this?" She planted herself beside me in the grass against the old shed.

"What is it?" I looked suspiciously at the bottle she was now uncorking and pouring into two glasses.

"Firewhisky," she shrugged. "Don't tell me you don't remember this?" she handed me one.

"Only that I probably once made maybe a dozen vows to never drink the stuff again," I took the glass from her eagerly and tossed the amber liquid down my throat in one. I choked, the liquid burnt on the way down and made my eyes water. But then the drink settled in my stomach like a warm embrace, heating my entire body and I felt relaxed, calm for the first time tonight. Taking the bottle from her, I re-filled my glass.

"Take it easy with that stuff. Because I am not pouring you into bed," she warned, sipping from her own glass.

For awhile we remained silent. Sat amongst the long grass, side by side under the stars, leaning against the corrugated iron of Dad's old shed that was covered in moss. It was actually nice, companionable, just sitting there lost in our own thoughts and I could think clearly for the first time since we'd arrived here. Tonight hadn't gone well at all.

"Is Mum alright?" I finally muttered, taking another drink,

"Yeah," Ginny nodded. "She's so sorry she upset you. But, we calmed her down. She just…well, it's not been easy, you know?" she glanced at me. I wondered how much of the argument with Hermione she'd overheard, because it sounded as though I was about to get another reminder of how hard the past two years had been for all of them. But Ginny went quiet again as she drank her drink.

"I think Hermione's fed up with me," I muttered suddenly.

Ginny almost choked on her drink and I had to pat her back as she coughed and spluttered everywhere. "What the hell?" she asked, once she was done and wiped her mouth.

I shrugged. "Just…she seems, pissed off with me. Told me she didn't care what I did."

"She's just upset," Ginny replied quietly. "And…frustrated," she added.

I frowned, wondering what she meant by that. "Anyway, she left me here." I mumbled, draining my glass again. It was probably stupid to drink more, but even still my hand reached out for the bottle again. "Maybe it would have been better for everyone if no one had found me." I added, sulkily. "Ow!" I yelped then as Ginny suddenly slapped me, almost making me drop the bottle.

"How can you even think that!" she snapped, snatching the bottle from me and filling her own glass. "How can…I don't…idiot!" she hissed.

"What?" I turned to look at her. "I just figured…Hermione was getting her life back together. The kids were doing okay, they were all moving on and everything was fine. And then they found me," I waved my hands out in front of myself, in a 'ta-dah'" fashion. "And I've just screwed everything up."

"You're such a moron!" She shook her head slowly and took a sip from her glass.

"Excuse me?" I glared at her.

"Well, you are. Do you really think she was doing fine? That her whole life was all happiness and light again? Yeah, because I suppose you mourn for a few weeks, then just get over it and carry on. Bloody idiot!" She rolled her eyes at me.

"No. I don't think that. But, she….well, she got through it, she was doing alright. Getting on with things. Right?" I frowned.

Ginny sighed. "She was functioning. That is not the same as living." She stared at me pointedly. "Listen, there were days, in the first few months following, where I didn't think she'd ever make it through. There were times I'd insist on staying over because I was so scared she'd do something stupid. And there were days she couldn't bring herself to get out of bed. Although those days eventually passed and she began getting out of bed, taking care of her kids, going to work even, I knew it was only an act. I knew it was just a routine she was going through. Like she wanted to prove something to everyone. Look at me, I'm up, I'm dressed, I'm functioning. But that is not living."

"I don't understand?" I frowned and glared at the drink in my hand. This stuff was making me more stupid than usual.

Ginny sighed and set her drink down. I looked at it for a moment, considering drinking it for her. "When you…well, when we thought you'd died, something died in Hermione. She lost her spirit, her fight for life. The light went from her eyes and everyone knew she was trying to pretend everything was fine for those kids of yours. She'd do anything for them. Some days I'm pretty sure they're the only reason she didn't do anything stupid. Anyway, the last couple of years she's been like a walking zombie and no one has dared say anything to her because we all knew she was doing the best she could. She'd lost her entire world…._you _were her world."

I swallowed thickly, feeling like a prize arsehole. I hadn't really considered any of this. How it would feel to lose someone so close to you, or how you made it through the pain.

"And then, we get some hint that someone may have spotted you alive. You should have seen her, her face lit up like a swarm of flitterby moths. She had that hope back, the flame was relit again, you could see it. And damnit, the first time I saw her after she'd actually found you, well…she just, she looked alive again."

"I…I never knew," I mumbled, still feeling like that complete arsehole.

"Well, of course you didn't." Ginny scoffed. "But, I bet you never really thought much about it either, did you?" She glanced at me.

I shrugged. I hadn't. "Then, if that is the case, that she's so happy I'm back in her life or whatever. Then, why does she act so…pissed off with me? Like I've done something to annoy her?"

Ginny sighed and shrugged one shoulder. "Never sure with Hermione. That's the trouble with both of you, you're such passionate people. The slightest thing sets you off. Anyway, I think, and I'm not entirely sure, but…I think she's just a bit frustrated and well, disappointed."

"In me." I assumed and hung my head, feeling the need to fill my glass again. Ginny still had the bottle tucked into her other side, out of my reach. "I knew I'd just be a huge disappointment to everyone. I'm not the same person anymore."

"Oh Ron, that's not what I meant," she shook her head vigorously. "She loves you exactly the same. And to me you've barely changed. But, well…Hermione, she wants her husband back and everything that comes with a marriage, but those things will take time." She coughed as I blushed furiously. "She's sad that you don't seem to remember your relationship with her or feel the same way about her. Plus, I think maybe she's a little jealous you seem to prefer spending time with the kids as well. Like you don't want to be around her."

"But it's easy with them. They just accept me as I am and they don't expect anything from me, and you're the same with me."

"I wouldn't count on it mister, you owe me for two missed Christmases! Oh…and birthdays! I expect gifts!" She laughed.

I nudged her with my elbow playfully as I chuckled along with her.

"Listen Ron. Hermione just needs you to remember _her_. Not the house or some old Quidditch game or a row at school. But her…something specific to your relationship, the way you felt about her. Something special that means what you had meant enough to you for it to be preserved in that pea brain head of yours somewhere!"

"I'm trying!" I hissed. "I can't help what I can remember and what I can't."

"I know you can't, and Hermione knows it too. She really does understand and she keeps telling herself it's just going to take time. She's trying to be patient. But, that doesn't mean she's not going to feel disappointed or frustrated about things along the way. She knows it's all in there and she knows you love her. She just needs you to remember that."

"Sometimes I have these brief flashes of things, memories maybe. Just tiny seconds, like when you wake from a dream and can remember something vaguely, but you're not sure?" I looked to her for a response. Ginny nodded. "But, I don't say anything because I don't know what they mean. They're just a sense of….something."

"Just talk to her Ron. She still needs you, you know. I think she just needs to know that you're really where you want to be right now. That you do want to be with her. She's so worried of doing something wrong or saying the wrong thing and you'll leave her life again."

"I'm not going anywhere!" I replied adamantly and folded my arms. "Bloody woman is stuck with me now!"

"Tell her that.. She'll be thrilled to hear it." Gnny patted my knee.

I nodded silently, taking another mouthful of the amber liquid, never quite prepared for the burn each time.

"Have you ever apologised to her?" Ginny suddenly asked.

"Huh?" I swallowed quickly.

"Just, last weekend, you were talking about how Rose took awhile to come around. But then after you apologised to her and assured her you weren't leaving her again, you said she's been fine with you since. Well, maybe Hermione needs to hear the same thing. I know it wasn't your fault, but damnit, putting her through hell, and that's an understatement, these last two years wasn't her fault either."

I thought about that quietly for a few minutes, drinking the fire whiskey as I gazed up at the stars. I used to do that a lot back at the farm. Sit alone outside or on the beach and just gaze at the stars, wondering if there was a life missing me out there, thinking of strange dreams I'd had about flying horses, mixing potions and a rather bushy haired little girl. Bloody hell, had I remembered her before I even knew I'd remembered her?

"Yeah," I nodded. "I will. I'll talk to her."

"I'd just give her some time to calm down first," Ginny supplied.

I sighed and finished my drink. That was probably wise advice. "So, what happened after I ran out?" I wondered, looking towards the house. All the lights were still blazing, but it seemed quieter.

"Well," Ginny inhaled deeply. "Once I calmed Mum down and stopped her running out here after you, I think the party was kind of wrapping up. People were making their excuses to go home and stuff."

"Great. I ruined that too," I sighed and banged my head lightly against the wall. "I bet everyone thinks I'm a right bloody nutcase!" I rolled my eyes.

"No, they don't." She turned and touched my arm. "Don't worry, we all knew this party was a mistake, we could see you were uncomfortable with it all. They understand, honestly. They're your family, your brothers, for all their teasing banter, they just love you. All of us do." She confessed quietly. "I missed you, you know."

I smiled at her, feeling rather bashful about that. "Thanks," I mumbled.

"It's just you and I, we were closest in age…the youngest. So when everyone had gone off to school, it was just the pair of us for a couple of years. Until you left me for school too. I was so jealous, I didn't want to be alone." She sulked at her memory. "I remember the day Mum made you pack your trunk, couple of days before you left," she giggled to herself. "I'd hidden your school robes because I didn't want you to go. Mum was so mad with you, she thought you'd thrown them away because they were Charlie's hand-me-downs and she'd spent hours taking them up for you." She laughed.

"Thanks for that," I muttered, but laughed as well. "Getting me into trouble."

"You're welcome." She grinned at me. "But, yeah, we've always been pretty close."

I nodded again, not knowing how to answer that. "Sorry I left you, you know. I mean, not just to go to school. I hate that this happened, hate that my head is screwed up." I slapped my own head a couple of times, as though I could make it work again, that a blow would unscramble all the memories and they'd fall back into their correct place. Of course it didn't work and I just managed to bring on the headache that had been coming on for the past hour.

"I know," she whispered. "Oh," she suddenly remembered something. "Bill said to tell you you can go visit any time, whenever you're ready." She seemed glad she had something to change the subject with.

"Bill, right…" I nodded. "He's the eldest, married to Fleur, right?" I checked and then my eyes widened as an image suddenly popped into my head. "Oh bloody hell….bloody fuckering hell…" I mumbled as I felt the tell tale tingle that my skin was flushing bright red.

"What? Ron? What's wrong?" Ginny panicked and got up on her knees to face me. "Ron?" She looked worried, my face must have been a picture.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the image. "I had a bloody crush on my sister-in-law!" I gasped, mortified. "I asked her out?" I yelped.

Ginny laughed, real deep belly laughs and rolled off her knees into the grass.

"It's not funny!" I hissed and threw a handful of grass I'd ripped up at her.

"No…it's hilarious." She continued laughing. "I remember when you asked her out. You screamed at her!" She burst into more giggles. "Should have seen your face! And hers, she looked terrified!"

"I can't believe I crushed on my own sister-in-law," I covered my face with my hands and slowly shook my head.

"Well, to be fair," Ginny gasped after her giggles. "She wasn't your sister-in-law at the time. Don't think Bill had even met her yet, so she was fair game," she giggled once. "And she is part veela…takes a strong man to control himself around her you know."

"That's just humiliating," I muttered to myself.

Ginny laughed and nudged my leg with her foot from where she lay in the grass. "She's never held it against you. Don't worry."

Ginny just lay in the grass for awhile, occasional little bubbles of giggles bursting out every so often – I suspected that had more to do with the alcohol than my personal humiliation. Or at least I hoped so. As silence followed, I looked up at the stars and wondered what Hermione was doing now. I hoped she wasn't crying, but she probably was. I just seemed to make her cry – heck knows why Ginny thought she was happier with me here. In fact I just seemed to make everyone cry, my mother included. As though reading my mind, Ginny suddenly spoke up.

"I reckon everyone would have gone now. Fancy going back inside?" She looked at me, one eyebrow raised quizzically.

"Oh, erm…I," I stammered. I hadn't considered going back in. But then I hadn't really considered doing much other than sitting here. I liked sitting out here with my sister.

"Come on," she urged and sat up. "It will just be Mum and Dad now. Well, and Harry's waiting for me, or he'd better be," she frowned. "Oh, and I think Charlie is staying over with them, but he'll be discreet if you want him to go." She rambled on.

"I dunno..." I hesitated.

"Well, you can't sit out here all night. If we go in now, we can have some tea and just sit and talk, all relaxed, the way tonight was supposed to be. Oh, come on Ron…I want to go in now," she whined at me. "Besides, there's loads of food left," she tried to tempt me.

I sighed, knowing I was defeated. "Well, I am hungry," I huffed and pushed myself off the wall of the shed as I got up, grabbing the bottle of Firewhiskey and glasses on my way.

"Great!" She jumped to her feet. "Because I really need to pee!" She laughed over her shoulder, already running towards the house.

I followed after her, slowly, taking my time and watching my feet. Maybe I shouldn't have drunk so much of that firewhiskey – I felt a tad wobbly. The back door was open when I approached, I caught sight of Ginny racing up the stairs to the bathroom. I took a deep breath and then climbed the two steps into the kitchen.

Dad was stood at the sink, supervising the washing up and filling the kettle. He simply smiled at me and held up a mug, asking silently it I'd like a drink. I nodded and offered him a smile back. Charlie wandered in, his arms laden with plates full of left over food. "I think that's the last of it Dad," he muttered, setting it all down on the table. "Want me to put it away?"

"Your brother might be hungry?" Dad turned towards me.

I eyed the plates of food hungrily, feeling as though my mouth was salivating. "Starving," I muttered. Dad chuckled, handed me a plate and I loaded it up with all my favourites.

"Well, if no one minds, I'm going to head to bed. I had an early start," Charlie stretched his arms above his head.

"Go get some sleep," Dad smiled at him. "Say goodnight to your Mum though," he reminded him. I wondered if all of us were still treated like kids by our parents. Maybe that's what parents did, to them we'd always be their children. How would I behave once Hugo and Rosie were grown and had left home? Suddenly the thought of Rose and a boyfriend made my stomach recoil – that wasn't going to happen for a very long. A very, very long time, I vowed to myself.

I'd just taken a bite of a pumpkin pasty when Charlie threw his burly arms around me. "Great to see you little bro," he muttered, then backed off, patted my shoulder twice and headed to the lounge where I guessed Mum was.

"That's better," Ginny grinned brightly, returning to the kitchen. "Knew you were hungry!" she laughed at my loaded plate. "Want me to make tea Dad?" she asked him.

"Already got the kettle on sweetheart," he smiled at his only daughter.

Somehow once the tea was made, I found myself being shuffled into the lounge along with the tray, still eating my plate of food. Mum was sat in there, speaking quietly with Harry and pouring over an old photo album. When we came in, the album was quickly snapped shut and set aside. "Ron," she smiled at me. Her eyes looked a little red and puffy and I felt like a dick for having made her cry – again! I smiled back as I sat down on the edge of a chair and, whilst finishing my mouthful, set my almost empty plate on the coffee table.

"I'm sorry…"

"I'm sorry..."

We both spoke at the same time. Mum looked up and our eyes met and we both chuckled lightly, until I waved for her to go on.

"I just…well, I'm sorry about this party. It was a mistake, I see that now and I should have listened to Ginny. I just, I got carried away with it and I know it was uncomfortable for you. I am sorry Ron, I never wanted to make you feel like that."

I shrugged, a little embarrassed. "It's okay," I mumbled. "I mean, I know you meant well." She nodded in affirmation. "But I'm sorry I ran out and caused a scene and made everyone leave. I just, I…"

"It doesn't matter love," she smiled at me and began pouring the tea.

"Whilst we're apologising…I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for the last couple of years as well. For everything you all went through, because of me," I mumbled. I might as well get all these apologies out of the way. Why not apologise to them all?

"Oh Ron…" she gasped.

"Son, none of that was your fault. You know that, right?" Dad looked at me, a little surprised. His spectacles having slipped to the end of his nose.

"I know, but," I shrugged. "I just, I want you to know I've hated these two years without you all too, wondering if anyone out there was missing me. Thinking I was alone. And I hate that I can't remember stuff." I looked up then, dismayed to see my Mum crying again

"Ronnie," she shook her head and I froze, thinking we were about to have a repeat performance of what had happened earlier up in my old room. She sniffed then and wiped her eyes on a handkerchief. "You have nothing to apologise for my love. Nothing. We're just glad you're okay and you're here. That's all that matters now, right Arthur?" She looked to my Dad.

"Of course." He beamed at me. "Having you home is all that matters now," he added and handed me a cup of tea.

I took a deep, steady breath and relaxed into the chair a little with my tea. This was okay. This was actually, fairly nice. Just to sit and talk and be with my parents. It was strange, although I didn't really have any firm recollections of them, I just knew they were my Mum and Dad. I think I would have known even if no one had told me. There was a familiar comfort about them, a sense that they weren't just anybody. The same sense I got around Hermione I realised. I wondered again what she was doing. Would she be mad I hadn't gone after her? Should I try to find her? I hated to think of her being upset. And especially because of me.

"Where did Hermione go?" Harry suddenly asked me.

I saw Ginny elbow him out the corner of my eye and I hid a smirk. "She went to check on the kids," she answered for me. Harry looked confused, but said no more about it as he rubbed the side of his chest.

"Are they okay?" Mum asked, concerned.

"I'm sure they're fine." I smiled at her.

"Mum, do you have any more of that apple tart? That was delicious," Ginny asked, changing the subject. "Could just eat another slice."

"Yes, yes…there should be some in the kitchen. We have plenty of left over's." Mum bustled about then, fixing Ginny a slice of pie and insisting on making me something fresh to eat. I wasn't going to argue over a nice hot bacon sandwich.

"Sorry," Harry grimaced in a whisper. "Asking about Hermione like that. I erm, didn't think. She'll be alright you know. Let her cool off and you'll be fine tomorrow." He added knowingly. I began to wonder if this was normal for us – the arguments and the storming off. I really didn't know what kind of relationship we had or what kind of husband I'd been. I assumed she'd been happy with me, she'd obviously had a tough time losing me, but that didn't mean much. People tended to become heroes after death.

Mum came back in with a tray full of fresh tea and enough food to feed an army, I smiled appreciatively at her. The tea flowed as easily as the conversation after awhile, asking me what life had been like on the farm, what I'd been up to all this time and how I'd been. This was how tonight should have been, just forget the first half of the night and concentrate on this. Well, I'd do a better job if Hermione had been at my side.

Dad grew excited when he realised I had been living as a Muggle for the last couple of years and asked dozens of questions about traffic lights, televisions, farm tractors and how many plugs we'd had at the farm house. I smiled indulgently as I told him everything he wanted to know. But he was definitely the only one enthralled by my in-depth descriptions of how we'd milked the cows with the aid of electricity. Well, he had asked and it made me smile to see his smile grow wider and his eyes sparkle at my explanations.

"You and those blasted Muggle plugs," Mum rolled her eyes at him. And I had a strange recollection that my Dad had actually collected plugs and was fascinated with the Muggle world.

After awhile, Ginny and Harry began to make their excuses. Saying they should get home to relieve the babysitter.

"You should have brought the children with you," Mum told Ginny.

"I know, we didn't realise the other kids would be here though," she sighed. I figured she'd probably told Mum this a couple of times before. "Besides, they're fine with Andromeda, she loves having them and Teddy likes having some playmates."

"Andromeda?" I asked, frowning at the name. "Sounds like one of them Muggle science fictions films I saw advertised in a Muggle newspaper."

"Ooh, what are science fiction films?" Dad asked, his eyes lighting up with interest.

"Not now Dad," Ginny hissed at him. "Do you remember her Ron?" She then asked me. "Andromeda Tonks, she is the late Nymphadora Tonks' mother and Teddy is her Grandson, who is also Harry's Godson." She elaborated.

I shook my head sadly, I didn't recognise any of those names, as weird and unusual as they were. But I found myself feeling a little smug that either Hermione or I had had sense to give our kids normal sounding names.

"Oh, well, you'll probably meet her soon. And Teddy of course, he's often at our house," she smiled at Harry. Funny that she hadn't mentioned me meeting the other girl, something…dora, I mused silently.

"So, what are these sense friction films all about?" Dad asked me again, leaning forward eagerly. Mum nudged him and then gave him a scowl and he sat back in his seat, rather put out. I smiled at his mispronunciation and promised myself I'd tell him what I knew about them when we got a chance.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Ginny was asking me as she stood and Harry went to collect their cloaks. "I mean, if you don't want to go home alone, you're welcome to come back with us?"

"Well, he's very welcome to stay here too," Mum added, affronted that she shouldn't be a first choice.

"Of course," Ginny smiled patiently, taking her cloak from Harry and draping it across her shoulders.

"Isn't Hermione at home then?" Dad wondered. "I thought she'd gone to fetch the kids from her parents or something?"

I sighed. "We had a bit of a row, she went to her parents for the night," I confessed.

"Oh…right," he nodded with a knowing smirk. "Well, like your mother said, you are more than welcome to stay here,"

"She'll be fine in the morning," I muttered, as though Dad hadn't said anything. I hoped I was right about that. But both Ginny and Harry had told me to just let her calm down.

In the end, I agreed to stay the night at my parents, up in my old room. I just couldn't disappoint the hopeful look on my Mother's face and I hoped that maybe by staying with my mum and dad, Hermione wouldn't mind so much that I hadn't raced after her – not that I even knew where to disapparate to. She might even be glad I'd spent the night with my parents.

Mum was already making plans for breakfast when she led me upstairs to my old room, insisting on changing the bedding for fresh sheets and finding a pair of my Dad's pyjamas for me to wear. I found her fussing somewhat comforting, it felt nice to be Mothered a bit, at least when she wasn't crying. I realised then why I'd been so attached to Mildred – she'd reminded me of my Mum. For the first time in a few days, I thought of the Bridges with fondness. I should write to them and let them know how things were going I decided as I slipped between the sheets of my old childhood bed.

* * *

I woke, staring up at the wooden beams on the ceiling above my bed. Briefly I wondered what time it was and tried to determine whether it was my turn to milk the cows today or not. But mostly my thoughts were filled of the incredible dream I'd been having. Long and incredibly detailed. Dreams of a family, parents, siblings and delightful children of my own. And a wife, a wife who loved me. I sighed wistfully to myself, wishing that they were all real and physically aching for what I assumed were figments of my imagination.

Rolling to my side, I caught sight of a bright orange poster on the wall, it even appeared to be moving. I frowned at it for a moment, wondering where it had come from and then rubbed at my eyes. It was still there. As were stickers of the same bright shade covering the walls, and, since when had the window been on that side of the room? Sitting up abruptly, I glanced around the room and a smile grew on my face.

I wasn't at the farm. I was home. My childhood home, in my old bed. Those people I'd dreamt about, every single one of them was very real. I had a family. I had brothers and a sister, a Mum and Dad. And amazingly enough those kids really were mine. And my beautiful wife. Damnit! Hermione, she was upset with me, we'd fought and she'd gone off to her parents. I lay back down in the bed, trying to figure out how I was going to resolve that. I had to apologise and let her know how important she was to me. And I was going to try harder to remember something about us, something important and special.

The smell of bacon wafted up the stairs then and I swung my legs over the side of the bed, suddenly eager to see my parents again. Just to check they really were real. And then I remembered the actual dream I'd had. Or more likely a memory. My Mum, I'd remembered something about my mum. And my dad had been there too. Instinctively I knew it was real, that it had happened in reality and not just in my head. I sprang off the bed to get dressed, excited to tell her, to share my memory of them. I just hoped Mum wouldn't cry again.

"Morning love," Mum smiled softly at me, turning from the stove and sending a platter of sausages and bacon levitating to the table. "Did you sleep well?" she asked, kindly.

"Great," I smiled. I honestly had. "Thanks for letting me stay." I then muttered, hovering awkwardly in the kitchen.

"Oh," she seemed surprised. "You're welcome here any time love, this is still your home too."

"Your mother's right." Dad walked in and clapped his hand on my shoulder, "It's wonderful to have you here." He beamed and then sat at the table with a copy of that mornings Daily Prophet.

"Well, thanks." I muttered again, eyeing all the food Mum was laying out on the table – bacon, fried eggs, grilled tomatoes, sausages, grilled mushrooms, as well as toast and jam.

"Don't be shy love, sit down and help yourself. I hope your hungry." Mum pointed her wand at the sink and the pans started to wash.

"Starving," I muttered and took a seat as she passed me a plate. I began loading it up.

"Nothings changed there," she chuckled lightly and tussled my hair lovingly.

"Yes…it's nice to have you here so I can eat all this. Your Mother doesn't cook like this for me every morning." Dad laughed, helping himself to food as well as peering at the paper laid beside him.

Mum set a teapot on the table as well as a jug of pumpkin juice before she joined us. Just as we all began to tuck in, Charlie ambled down the stairs, yawning as he stretched his arms above his head. He sat down sleepily at the table, poured himself a cup of tea, took a sip and then looked to his left.

"Ron, you're still here!" He gasped in surprise.

"Were you expecting me to disappear again?" I laughed nervously

"Well, no, but.." He stammered.

"I just stayed over for the night." I patted his back.

"Brilliant," he grinned and took a piece of toast, beginning to slather it in butter.

"Mum…" I began, once I was half way through the mound of food on my plate. Mum kept insisting I took more. "I...I had a dream last night," I added. "Well…they're more than dreams, they're kind of memories that come to me in my sleep. Hermione explained it all to me, something about my unconscious being relaxed and…" I rambled, but then looked up as they were all waiting anxiously for me to get on with the memory. "Oh, sorry."

"So, what was it?" She asked, trying not to sound too eager, but obviously she was hopeful.

"You and Dad," I replied. Mum gasped, clutching her hand to her chest. "I was at Ollivanders, getting my wand, so I must have been 11. And you were both there and looked so happy, then you hugged me and said something about looking after it this time. I was absolutely thrilled with it, I remember I kept sneaking glances at it in the box. Then you gave me a couple of coins and told me to have fun and…Oh! I met with Hermione." I grinned at my realisation. "We went shopping together," I remembered fondly.

"Ron," Mum sighed, smiling fondly, the sparkle of tears evident in her eyes. She was obviously touched, but thankfully not the emotional mess I had been afraid of. "Yes, that all happened. I remember that day. Only, you weren't 11 sweetheart. You were 13 when you got your first new wand." She confessed.

"What?" I dropped a sausage from my fork. "But…how? I started Hogwarts at 11, didn't I?" I remembered being there, Harry and Hermione had told me about my first year with them.

"Yes. You did love. But, when you first started…you had Charlie's old wand," she nodded towards my brother.

"Bought myself a new one when I got the job with the dragons," he muttered through a mouthful of toast. "Needed something a bit sturdier to last out there," he explained.

"You see," Mum looked to my Dad a little embarrassed. "We didn't have much money then, what with seven children and all…and, well, a lot of things had to be hand-me-downs I'm afraid. You weren't very thrilled, you'd been excited about getting your first wand. Anyway, you managed to break it in your second year. It never worked very well after that. And then we won some money in a competition in the Daily Prophet, so we bought you a new one before your third year started."

I munched on a slice of toast as she told me all this, a strange image had popped into my head when she said I'd broken it and I was trying to work out what it was. "The car," I suddenly muttered. "A flying car! I broke it then?" I looked up.

"Yes, you did," she frowned at me. I don't think I had been forgiven for that one. "Flying that blasted thing of your Father's to Hogwarts, I don't know." She shook her head and glared at my Dad as though it was his fault. He lowered his head behind his newspaper, hoping she'd not notice.

"Yeah…sorry," I muttered, but I was thrilled I'd had another memory. "Harry and I flew it, didn't we? Couldn't get through the barrier at Kings Cross?" I remembered.

"That's right." Her smile returned, coming to the same conclusion that I had and was just glad I'd had another memory. "Oh, Ron….it's all coming back, isn't it?" She beamed at me and looked as though she wanted to hug me again.

I nodded. "Slowly, in little bits here and there."

"You'll get there son." Dad was smiling too, his newspaper now all but forgotten.

"I've been wondering something." Charlie spoke up, making himself a sausage butty with the toast. "Ginny said something about you being really worried about seeing us all and how she had to talk you into it. I mean, I know it's probably been a bit weird, but…we're just your family." He frowned, now squeezing sauce onto his sandwich. "So, why the nerves?" he raised one eyebrow at me and took a bite of his sandwich.

I sighed, knowing I should have expected this. I pushed away my now empty plate, rubbing my very satisfied stomach. "It's just…it's a little unnerving, the thought of being around you all, you knowing all about me, having memories of me and me not really knowing you at all," I confessed.

"Yeah, but you must have known we'd never hurt you or anything? You're our brother." He still couldn't understand. "And why did you run out on Mum last night?"

"Charlie," Mum started to remonstrate him. Obviously she had forgiven me for that and didn't feel the need to bring it up again.

I poured myself another cup of tea as I carefully decided how to explain it. "Because. Well, I was afraid of being a huge disappointment to you all…"

"Oh Ronnie," Mum interrupted, a tender, motherly expression on her face.

"No, let me explain," I waved away her concern. "I know you've all been, well, excited by my return, Hermione told me that. And, I suppose you all had high expectations, you were getting your brother back, your son…and yet, I'm not the same person any more. I'm not the man you knew. I didn't want to let you down."

"That's just silly," Mum looked affronted. "Of course you're the same person, you'll always be my son, the same little boy I loved from the moment you were born."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," I patted her hand. "But, I'm not really the way you remember me."

"But you are," Dad spoke up. "Granted, you may have changed physically a little over the last two years, but we all do as we're getting older," he quipped. "But, your mannerisms are the same. The words you use are the same, you have lost your accent a little, but you sound the same to me. And, your appetite is still exactly the same," he chuckled. "You're not as different as you think you are son. You probably don't remember the man you were either, we do. You're our son, just the same."

"And my daft kid brother!" Charlie grinned and messed up my hair.

"Besides, you could never be a disappointment to me Ronnie," Mum sighed and got up, she hugged me from behind then, her arms around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered and bustled off to refresh the teapot. I caught her dab at her eyes with the tea towel.

"Oh," I muttered, not knowing what else to say. I felt a little overcome with emotion.

"So," Charlie reached over and patted my shoulder. "All that worry for nothing really," he laughed, using humour to diffuse the tension.

"Yeah," I gave a half chuckle

"Anyway, what are your plans for the day?" Dad asked me, folding his newspaper and checking his watch. I wondered if he had to get to work, that is if he was still working these days. "I'm sure your Mum would love to have you around the house for the day," he smiled at his wife. She turned and beamed across the table.

"Erm…actually, I really wanted to get home," I muttered, casting another furtive glance at the clock in the corner, the way I had been doing the last half an hour. "You know, I wanted to get back before Hermione."

"Oh, yes. Of course," Mum nodded, but I could tell she was disappointed.

"Say, where is my favourite sister-in-law?" Charlie only just noticed she was missing.

"She erm, she…went to her parents last night. After we had a fight," I admitted quietly.

Charlie laughed. "There'll be fireworks at your place tonight then!"

"Huh?" I looked at him dumbly.

"Well, I've always thought, if you two make up in the same intense way you fight, there must be some damn good sparks in the bedroom!" He roared with laughter again.

"Charles Fabien Weasley!" Mum gasped as she admonished him. Meanwhile I felt the tips of my ears heating up. The mere thought of being intimate with Hermione, it…well, it had an effect on me I had no right in feeling.

"Do we…fight a lot then?" I muttered. Somehow I'd got the sense that we did.

He shrugged. "Not as much as when you were kids apparently. But, yeah, you have your little spats. And then you make up and you're all nauseating again." He pretended to be sick.

"Charlie, you leave your brother alone. Your marriage with Hermione is just fine love. It's healthy to have a few rows. So long as you make up and apologise. So, I can understand the need for you to get home." She confessed, although she still looked sad at the prospect of my leaving. I could tell she was in her element having two of her sons home to fuss over.

"Thanks Mum," I smiled appreciatively at her. "I'll come back and see you soon though. Or…maybe we could have you and dad over for dinner one night?" I wondered, hoping Hermione wouldn't mind me inviting them.

"That sounds delightful," Dad agreed, looking to Molly who was nodding enthusiastically.

"I'll check with Hermione and make a date then?" I asked, getting up from the table as they both nodded. "Charlie, how long you staying around for?" I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets. I'd heard he didn't come home too often, work kept him busy in Romania.

"Oh. I'm here for a couple of weeks actually. Sorry to burst your bubble little brother, but I didn't come home just to see you." He ruffled my hair up again. Why did it always make me feel about five years old when they did that? "Nah, there's a bit of a dragon situation in Wales, I've been asked to sort it out."

"Oh, right," I nodded, wondering what kind of situation and whether we should worry. "Well, make sure you come and visit Hugo while you're here. He' d love to see you."

"I wouldn't miss it," he grinned. "That little rug rat of yours is my most captive audience for my dragon tales. My only audience actually," he corrected himself with a wry grin. "I'll come over in a couple of days, let the fireworks die down first." He smirked and then ducked as I went to swipe him.

"Boys," Mum shook her head, but her smile lit up her face. It was obvious she loved having us home. I felt guilty for not coming to see her sooner. But, I'd make it up to her and visit more often from now on.

"Right, well I should go," I made a step towards the fireplace.

"Yes, and I should get to work." Dad got up and collected the lunch tin my Mum had been filling for him. He kissed her cheek as he did and gave her a quick hug. "I'll see you later, love," he kissed her again. "Ron," he clapped his hands on both shoulders. "It has been wonderful having you home," he hugged me. "And we'll see you for dinner, soon, right?" he checked, holding me again at arms length.

I nodded. "Yes. As soon as I check with Hermione."

"Can't upset the wifey," Charlie muttered under his breath.

Mum smacked the back of his head with Dad's newspaper she'd removed from the table as she bustled over to give me a hug. Dad laughed, waved and then left in a waft of green flames and smoke. "Now," she began, straightening the collar of my shirt. "Make sure you come and see us soon. You're welcome here any time, just drop in whenever you like."

"I will," I nodded. "And I'll send the owl with a day for dinner."

"Good, good. I shall look forward to that. Give Hermione my best…and I hope you sort things out." she continued, and I knew she was stalling to say goodbye. "And give my grandchildren a kiss."

"I will, but I really should go. I want to get home before she does," I checked the time again, noting the children would probably still be dawdling over breakfast if they were up yet. It was strange to think how familiar I was becoming with all their habits so quickly. And even stranger to realise that that house really was home to me now. If anyone asked me where home was, that would be the address I gave these days.

"Yes, yes. Of course." She fussed with my hair then, flattening it out from where Charlie had ruffled it. "Thank you so much for coming," she pulled me to her and hugged me tightly. "I am so, so happy to have you back," she squeezed me and backed off. There was the threat of tears in her eyes again.

"I promise, I'll come back soon, in a day or two," I assured her I wasn't walking out of her life again.

She nodded, kissed my cheek, stroked my hair down again and gave me another brief hug before she finally let me go and I climbed into the fireplace.

"See you soon Mum. Later Charlie!" I called, before announcing my intended destination and leaving in a shower of green sparks myself.

* * *

I was relieved to find the house still in silence when I arrived home. There was no evidence that they were home yet. I decided to dart upstairs to shower and change quickly, aware that there was very probably a spell to transfigure my appearance, but I wanted to make the physical effort. Besides, I wasn't sure on the spell. Wouldn't help my case much if I managed to turn myself yellow and dress myself in my mother's clothes or something, would it?

I wandered back into the lounge, buttoning up my flannel shirt and trying to dry my hair when I heard noises outside. I suddenly wondered how Hermione transported the kids to her parents – they were too young to apparate and her parents weren't connected to the floo network. I hadn't thought to ask last night, I suppose I really should find out.

Loud, high pitched chatter grew closer and then the sound of the tumblers in the lock falling into place as the charm was cast upon it. The kids spilled inside the house as soon as the door opened, followed by their Mum laden down with their bags. They were about to rush to their boxes of toys, when they spotted me sat on the sofa.

"Daddy!" They both squealed and fought each other to get to me first. I hugged them both and kissed the tops of their heads. It had barely been 24 hours, but I had missed them so much. How had we all survived almost 21 months without each other? "We missed you!" Rosie beamed.

"Yeah, miss you!" Hugo repeated, laying his head on my shoulder.

"Why didn't you come with Mummy?" she wondered, looking up at me curiously.

"Erm, well," I glanced up at Hermione who was hovering silently by the door. Her face was giving nothing away, though she looked tired. "I stayed with your Grandma and Granddad Weasley last night. My Mum and Dad," I explained. "They hadn't seen me for a long time." I added, hoping that was reason enough for my daughter. She nodded and smiled as Hugo tried to crawl into my lap, babbling on once more about a dragon. "Did you have a nice time with your other grandparents?" I asked, noting that Hermione hadn't moved.

"Yeah!" Hugo gasped. "Nana did let me watch dwagons on the telly!" His eyes widened.

"She did huh?" I smiled, trying to share his enthusiasm. It amused me that my children were being raised with Muggle knowledge and techonology, even though they were half bloods.

"It was boring," Rosie rolled her eyes and I had to bite back a laugh at her expression.

"Well, perhaps next time you'll be able to watch something you like," I suggested.

"I like Tinker Bell." She told me, her face lighting up. When I frowned in confusion, she continued. "She's a fairy, and she…"

"We go play now?" Hugo butted in, tugging on my hand to get me to follow him.

"Actually…do you think you could give me and Mummy a few minutes alone?" I asked. "We need to talk, boring grown up stuff," I whispered. "Rose, why don't you take your brother outside and I'll come play with you in just a few minutes?" I requested hopefully, my eyes on Hermione.

"Okay," she huffed, displeased by my request, but obeying all the same. "Come on you." She took her brothers hand and led him from the room.

"I'll be there in a few minutes!" I promised, standing from the sofa and moving towards Hermione. "Hey," I offered pathetically after a few short moments of silence.

She raised her eyebrows, as though asking me if that was the best I could do. The back door closed with a slam then, the kids never did seem able to close doors quietly. Hermione waited for me to say something else, I waited for her to say something, and when nothing came from either of us, she sighed and bent to gather up the kids bags she'd dumped at her feet.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," I blurted out before she could climb the stairs. "I am so, so sorry," I repeated slower. "Please, can we talk? In here?" I nodded my head back to the lounge.

"I suppose," she sighed and followed me through, taking a seat in the armchair. I perched on the edge of the sofa, facing her.

"I hated fighting with you last night." I confessed.

"It's not something I particularly enjoy," she practically snapped.

"I know," I sighed and hung my head. "But, you were right. I _was_ being pathetic last night. They are just my family and they love me." I shrugged sheepishly. "And, I've been a complete idiot and somewhat selfish about a lot of things. And I do know it's been really hard for you too, I never meant it to sound like I thought you had it easy. I just, I suppose I never realised how much you went through or what it was really like for you. I don't remember losing someone close to me. And, well," I sighed, wishing she would say something, anything. But, I was grateful she was at least listening to me. "I'm really sorry that I didn't consider that more, that I've never really thought much about it or tried to understand."

"I appreciate that," she replied quietly. "And I apologise for yelling at you and...for storming off last night. It was rather childish of me."

I shrugged. "S'okay," I muttered. "I was being pretty childish myself." I admitted.

She smiled at me and I hoped we'd be okay now we'd cleared the air. Or, we'd at least be a bit better - we'd each apologised at least, it was a start. "You stayed with your mum and dad last night then?" She'd obviously heard me telling the kids.

"Yeah. Ginny and I talked a lot too, she made me see sense actually. And then she got me to go back inside. Mostly everyone had gone, apart from Charlie and Harry. And, we talked...it was actually nice." I smiled at her. "I liked being with them." I added.

"I'm glad," she smiled "And, I'm glad that you're here. I'd been so worried you'd go home."

"I am home," I replied, confused by her choice of words. I frowned at her.

"I meant the farm. I'm glad you didn't run off back there, after what I said." She explained, though there was the hint of a smile on her face and I knew my referring to here as my home had pleased her.

I shrugged. "This is where I belong." And I realised it was true. I belonged here. I had a family and somehow, I fit in. "I belong here, with you and the kids. And...I promise I'm going to work harder to remember us, to remember the special times. Because I really do want it back Hermione, I do."

Her smile grew and her stance relaxed some. "Thank you," she whispered, sniffing slightly.

There were dozens of other things I wanted to tell her about, things I want to talk about with her. Inviting Mum and Dad to dinner. Charlie coming over. Remembering my embarrassment over Fleur. My dreams and memories of my parents in Diagon Alley and shopping with her. The playful banter I had enjoyed with Charlie this morning and how when I woke this morning and for those few agonizing seconds where I'd thought she'd just been a dream, how very much I had missed her.

But, there would be time for that later. For now, we were okay. We were talking again and had cleared the air and that was all that mattered. I was already trying to come up with ways that might help me remember special moments between us and our entire relationship. I was more determined than ever that I was going to remember my wife and the life we shared. But, right now nothing was more pressing than keeping my promise to our kids and going outside to play with them.

"Come on," I stood and nodded my head towards the kitchen. "'Lets go join the kids." I smiled as she stood to join me and we went in search of Hugo and Rose.

* * *

Reviews are loved :) Until next week...


	15. Chapter 15

_Oops...a bit late - sorry! Back to Hermione's pov now and will be until the end of the story from now on._

_Thanks for the amazing reviews again - glad you liked last chapter._

_Disclaimer: I'm just a Potterhead!_

**Chapter F****ifteen**

The memories seemed to be coming back for Ron thick and fast now. Although they were still nothing of much substance and still only in little snatches, brief moments from his life. But he'd told me about his memories of asking Fleur to the Yule Ball whilst talking with Ginny and then the memories in his sleep of buying his wand, his parents and shopping with a 13 year old me.

And just this morning, over breakfast, he had amused Hugo with his memories of burping up slugs into a bucket in Hagrid's cabin because of his broken wand. Rosie had been disgusted at that particular story and told him it was horrible! Hugo thought it was hilarious and continued to give us a demonstration of the act all morning.

I was happy for Ron, I honestly was. Because I had finally realised that any kind of memory salvaged was a good sign – a move in the right direction. He was slowly regaining his past and becoming to know who he was. And yet, there was still that tiny part of me that was disappointed there was nothing significant about us, about me or our romantic relationship. I was still just a very good friend to him in his memories, he hadn't got to the couple stuff yet.

Although, I had to admit to myself that I perhaps wasn't so keen on him remembering our early days when we'd embarked on this new relationship. When we finally acknowledged our feelings for what they were and our friendship turned to love. Those had been some confusing, awkward and tender months. Trying to work out how things worked between us now, how our relationship had completely changed, but hadn't at all at the same time. Trying to establish and develop these romantic feelings we were finally able to act upon, whilst also grieving for lost loved ones; his brother, Tonks, Professor Lupin and the countless others who had died for the cause. We all struggled to come to terms with the aftermath of the battle and our months on the run, we were all still traumatised and damaged by things we'd seen and been through. Ron and I had been able to take solace in one another, but for some time it had just been awkward and clumsy and there was a lot of blushing. Which was even before the relationship became physical beyond hours spent snogging and cuddling.

Yeah, maybe I wasn't so bothered whether he remembered those first few months. But, our first kiss would have been sweet, the first time we made love would have been significant and our wedding day, monumental. Most of all I just wanted him to remember the way he'd loved me, the way he'd once felt about me. Maybe just so I didn't feel as though I had to make my husband fall in love with me all over again, because I was at a loss on how to go about that. How had it happened in the first place?! I wasn't going to fight trolls or offer myself up to be petrified or go to a dance with an international Quidditch player just to get his attention.

Right now, as I caught up on some work I'd had sent from my office at the Ministry, he was upstairs in our room, going through his things in his bedside table. He thought it might help with the memories if he looked through all his old things. The children were supposed to be helping him, but judging from the sound of running footsteps upstairs, the giggling and the falling out between Rose and Hugo I could hear, they had lost interested and become more of a hindrance than a help. I'd just get this file finished, I thought, glancing through the three pages I had left, and I'd take them off his hands for a bit. They could help me bake a cake for his parents coming to dinner tonight.

"Hey, Hermione, I was going…" Ron barged into the library when I was on the last page. "Oh…sorry, didn't know you were working," he apologised and was about to close the door again.

"It's okay, I'm almost done. Just trying to catch up a bit," I explained. I had been home from work for weeks now and I felt so behind in everything. I knew I would have to go back soon. "So, what did you need?" I asked, closing the file when he continued to just stand there. The work would keep.

"Oh, yeah." He shook his head and entered the room. "I just wondered," he began and came to the other side of my desk. "Can you tell me what these are all about?" He handed something to me. I inhaled sharply when I realised what they were – the chocolate frog cards, released a couple of years after the war, to commemorate myself, Ron and Harry. "Are…are they…well, real?" He looked confused.

I read the back of his card again for the first time in a while: _"Ronald Bilius Weasley is currently a very accomplished and courageous Auror within the British Ministry of Magic. __He__ is most famous for being a part of the trio (along with friends Harry Potter and Hermione Granger) who were instrumental in the downfall of the darkest wizard of our times, Lord Voldemort. A talented Wizard's chess player and played Quidditch for his house team at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ron enjoys Quidditch, supporting the Chuddley Cannons."_

"Yes, they're real." I whispered, turning over the back of mine. I hated the photo they had used. I cringed whenever the children handed me one, thrilled they had got mummy in their occasional treat.

"But...but how? Why?" He sat down on the edge of the desk, looking a complex mixture of awestruck and bewilderment. He picked his up again. "Instrumental in the downfall of the darkest wizard or our times, Lord Voldemort," he read to himself. "How did…what does that mean? What happened?" He looked up at me so confused.

I put the cards down and took a deep breath before I looked up at him again, not knowing what to say. I couldn't really explain this without telling him everything and right now I didn't have time.

"Does this have anything to do with what you keep putting off telling me about?" he caught on,

I nodded. "I suppose it's time I told you," I realised. He was coming closer to those memories, I was sure. Especially after all the vague comments he was hearing and now this. "But, I want to tell you everything, right from the start, so you understand it all. Only," I glanced at the little clock on my desk, "there's not enough time now, I need to make a start on dinner before your parents arrive and I want to do our story justice. But, tomorrow," I promised. "Tomorrow, we can sit down and I will tell you everything."

Ron looked more than a little anxious about that. As though he was desperate to know, but then didn't want to know anything at the same time. I knew he suspected the reason I kept it from him was because it was bad. though I wasn't sure he was prepared for how bad this was going to be or all the memories and pain it was going to conjure for him. I was sure it was all going to be something of a shock to him.

"Okay," he whispered, after he inhaled deeply, staring at the cards again. "I guess I can wait another day," he nodded, collecting the other cards up. "Still," he paused as he slid off the desk, "kind of cool that I'm on a chocolate frog card!" he chuckled.

Before he made it to the door, it was flung open by our daughter, who had raced inside and was now fighting to keep her brother out. "Mummy," she gasped, "Hugo says," she paused as she grunted and pushed him away from the door whilst trying to shut it on him. "He says you're making slugs for dinner." She told on him. "Go away Hugo!" She tried kicking him and he squealed as he shoved her back and they both nearly toppled through the doorway.

"Hey! Now that's enough! Stop fighting." Ron pulled the door from her hand and let them both in. They both froze and looked startled, daddy getting cross with them was new.

"And don't be mean to each other!" he warned them both, using the daddy voice he had discovered in the last couple of days.

"If you keep that up, I might just cook you some slugs!" I got up from the desk. They both looked at me in panic. "Especially young Hugo, seeing as he likes to wind his sister up." I added.

He stared at me and shook his head. "I no want slugs," he pouted.

"Then you apologise to your sister. And you apologise to your brother for kicking him." I warned Rose as well. Sulkily they did as they were told, with bottom lips sticking out and eyes on the ground. "Right then, how about we all go and make Grandma and Granddad a cake for tea?" I suggested, abandoning my work. I'd learnt a long time ago to put my family before my career. There were whoops of happiness then. "With flobberworms in it," I added, with a chuckle.

"Noooo!" The kids squealed with laughter as we all descended upon the kitchen.

Dinner with his parents was a rather uneventful affair. Conversation had flowed freely between us all, with no awkward silences or moments. The food was enjoyed, judging by the empty plates. And the children were on good behaviour. Even if Hugo did regale his Grandma with the tale of Ron burping up slugs at school. I should have known that story would stick with our son, anything even slightly gross and he loved it. I'm pretty sure his cousins would all hear about it soon enough. Molly said she remembered that, Ginny had written to her about it and that was when she and Arthur had discussed having to get Ron a new wand, knowing he couldn't continue with that one.

We adjourned to the lounge to eat dessert – the cake that Ron and the kids had decorated whilst I'd been busy with the shepherds pie.

"Mummy put flobberworms in it!" Hugo told his grandma just as she was about to take a bit of the cake.

"She what?" She lowered her fork and picked up the plate to study the cake carefully.

"Hugo, that was a joke," I laughed at him and smoothed down his hair. "Honestly, there's no flobberworms or anything out of the ordinary in the cake," I promised them.

"But you said…" he looked up at me accusingly.

"I was teasing you sweetheart," I laughed and kissed the top of his head.

"Oh. Then I have some?" He decided he wanted a slice after all.

"Of course kiddo." Ron cut him a slice and he soon had it all over his face.

Once the chocolate cake was devoured, the children dragged Ron and their Granddad out into the back garden to enjoy the last of the evening sun before bath time. Molly was making a fresh pot of tea whilst I cast the washing up charm on all the dishes.

"Is Ron okay dear? He seems a little quiet tonight," she commented.

"Yes," I sighed, turning to watch them out the window. Ron was laughing at something Hugo had said whilst chasing him across the lawn. From the way Hugo was flapping his arms, I guessed he was pretending to be a dragon. Rose was holding onto her Granddad's hand, leading him more sedately around the garden. "He was going through some of his old things this afternoon, and he found our chocolate frog cards, you know the ones with us on?" I asked. She nodded. "It confused him for awhile, he doesn't remember most of those accolades on the back. He asked about the war again and I promised I would tell him everything, tomorrow."

"Oh," she nodded knowingly. "I suppose he's a little anxious about all that then." She understood.

"Yes. I think so. He knows something bad happened, he's probably had dreams about it to be honest. But…I'm not sure he's prepared for all I have to tell him, all we went through. I'm a little worried about talking about it myself," I confessed.

She patted my shoulder and smiled sympathetically. I don't think she envied me the job at all. "Maybe….maybe you don't have to tell him, everything," she suggested. "I mean, it might be too much for him." She looked worried.

"I promised I would. I was going to start at the beginning, tell him the whole story. I think he needs to know everything to really understand it all. I wouldn't be surprised if he remembers some parts himself." I sighed and turned to watch them playing freely outside again.

"Well, anything I can do to help." She offered.

"Actually, could you have the kids for a few hours?" I looked up. "It would be easier if we didn't have to worry about them overhearing anything."

"Of course. Any time love, you know that." She took my hand that rested on the counter and squeezed it with her much older one.

"Thank you," I smiled. "I'll floo them over after breakfast."

* * *

It was the screaming that woke me from sleep that night. A loud, anguished scream of my name. I sat up in bed, my heart pounding as I listened again for the sound, wondering if it was one of the children calling for me, hoping neither were sick or that Rose's nightmares hadn't returned. Then, I heard it again.

"H'MIONE! NO! LEAVE HER….NOOOO!"

The sound was a strangled cry, panicked and terrified – instantly I realised it wasn't the kids, it was Ron. I lit the tip of my wand, creeping out of the bedroom and listening to his mournful moans and unintelligible cries. I was about to knock on his door, when another door opened behind me.

"Mummy?" Rose asked, her sleepy, dishevelled face peering up at me. She looked a little confused and scared as she rubbed her left eye with her knuckles.

"It's okay sweetheart. Daddy's just having a bad dream," I whispered, hurrying her back to her room. "Come on, back to bed, quickly." I pulled the sheets back and watched her climb in. "I'll go see if he's okay," I whispered, kissed her forehead and she'd already closed her eyes as I closed her door.

"NO! STOP! HERMIONE, H'MIONE!" He screamed.

I didn't bother pausing to knock this time as I flung his door open. Ron was tangled in his sheets, his body shaking and writhing in the bed. His hand reached out, clawing at the air as he again shouted my name and muttered something I didn't understand. He looked utterly distraught and terrified by his dreams.

"Ron," I sat down on the bed, dropping my wand onto the bedside table still lit. "Ron," I spoke his name a bit louder, rubbing his upper arm. "You're dreaming, it's okay," I made to grab his hands. He pushed me away. "Ron," I called and shook his shoulder gently. "You're dreaming, it's okay."

His eyes snapped open then and he stared at me in utter shock. I don't think he realised where he was or what I was doing there for awhile. He looked wary, afraid even and then quite suddenly he sat up and flung his arms around me, clinging to me like a koala as he began to sob.

"Hey, it's okay," I whispered and rubbed his back, noting he was drenched in sweat. "It's okay, we're safe. We're all safe," I mumbled as I held him and tried to comfort him.

He gave a deep, shuddery breath whilst he sobbed onto my shoulder and grasped even tighter, grabbing handfuls of my nightgown. "Y-you…" he stuttered. "Sh-she was h-hurting you. Y-you screamed…I-I…couldn't r-reach you," he hiccuped between his sobs.

"It's okay. I'm safe, you're safe. It was just a bad dream," I whispered and let him cling to me as I rubbed small circles on his back, stroking my hands through his hair. Was it totally wrong to be enjoying this contact with him? To be able to hold him in my arms as I had been longing to do for days? To actually revel in him needing me so much? I felt an intense burst of shame that I was liking this, that I needed him to hold me like this when he was so obviously distressed to a near hysterical level.

"I-I thought sh-she was going t-to…k-kill you," he whispered against my chest. "You w-were screaming. I-I couldn't g-get out." He finished.

"I'm fine." I repeated. "Look, I'm right here." I tried to lift him away so he could see that I was alright, that he'd just been having a bad dream.

He moaned, shaking his head and held me close, not wanting to let me go.

"It's okay Ron." I whispered, smoothing his damp hair down. "We're all fine."

I lost track of how long we sat like that for. How long his hot and damp body slumped against mine as he held on tight. If not for his tight grasp on me, I might have thought he'd fallen asleep. Eventually his sobs faded, until there was just the brief shudder of his body as he took calming breaths. Slowly his hold loosened and he sat up a bit, wiping his eyes as he took another deep breath.

"See, I'm okay," I whispered, peering at him, to see his eyes. "Everything is okay now. Did…do you want to…talk about it?" I wondered.

He nodded and looked down at the bed, possibly embarrassed about how he'd reacted. "It was just so…real," he whispered hauntingly. "We were locked in somewhere, away from you. Harry and me. And she was…making you scream, it was so loud. I thought she was killing you." He tried to explain his dream to me. "She thought we'd stolen something, she kept asking you where you got it. I couldn't get out. I never felt so afraid. I tried clawing at the walls," he looked down at his fingers, expecting to find them bloody and damaged. "Harry was doing something. I was angry with him because he wasn't helping me. I tried to get them to take me instead, to save you from her. They…they put us in the basement. Malfoys." he looked up at me as he whispered the last word. A word that seemed to have just come to him.

I gasped then, my hand flew to my mouth as I stared at him. Knowing what he had remembered. That it hadn't in fact merely been a dream. It was a memory, one of our very worst memories. The time when we'd been caught by snatchers during our months on the run and taken as prisoners to Malfoy Manor. When Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured me, almost to the point of killing me. But, I couldn't tell him this now, he didn't need to know the truth now. I needed to calm him down.

"I was just so scared. It felt so real." He looked up at me again and a lone tear ran down his face. "I couldn't lose you. She was going to kill you. I just couldn't lose you." He closed his eyes and began crying again, looking so utterly morose and lost and defeated.

"It's okay." I pulled him back to me and his arms went around me naturally. "You didn't lose me. I'm right here. We're all safe now." I whispered and kissed the top of his head. "We're safe," I repeated as I held him. He lifted his head then and our eyes met. His hold on me changed slightly. He was still clinging to me like a frightened child, but it became less

desperate and his hold was gentler. And then, suddenly, his lips were on mine and he was kissing me.

My whole body tingled at the touch of his lips, feeling completely alive for the first time in years and I shamelessly returned his ardent kisses. My hand curled around the back of his neck and when his tongue requested entry, I invited him in, brushing my own against his, feeling as though I was going to burst, that my heart would explode. I clung to him as his hand tangled in my hair. Our mouths moved together in a lustful dance and we both moaned together, trying to get closer still, pressing our body against one another.

Just as he was pulling me down onto the bed, my knee brushed against his crotch and quite suddenly he jerked away from me. Both of our breaths coming in short gasps and his face instantly flushed red. I willed my beating heart to calm down as I smoothed my hair and brushed imagined wrinkles from my clothes, feeling such a fool, as though I had taken advantage of him.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, not able to bring himself to look at me. He toyed with a loose thread on the sheet. "I…we…shouldn't…"

"It's okay. Really," I tried to reassure him. He was my husband – he was allowed to kiss me!

He gave me a brief, sheepish smile and then blushed further as he looked at me. "I…I…don't…" he stammered.

"It's fine." I repeated.

He just nodded, still playing with that thread. "I…I'm going to get some water." He suddenly muttered in one long word as he kicked the sheets off him and darted from the room. I sighed heavily, letting my head fall back. Well that hadn't gone so well, I realised as I stood from his bed and made my way back to my room whilst he was still in the bathroom.

Sleep didn't come easy when I crawled back into my bed. Not even after the pounding of my heart calmed down. I found myself tracing my lips with my fingers as I relived the kiss in my head. The feel of his soft lips against mine. Him clinging to me in passion, rather than fear. The smell and feel of his body pressed tightly against mine. We'd kissed, I grinned to myself. We had hopelessly and positively snogged one another. For the first time in almost two years. I felt a silly, girly little giggle bubble up from inside of me.

Until I remembered what had led to the kiss and I quickly swallowed the giggle. His very obvious fear and distress from what he thought was just a dream. A dream of the one of the worst times in my life, certainly in my younger years. I couldn't believe he'd remembered that and wondered if all the talk of a war, finding the cards yesterday and my promise to explain things to him had set it off. And now, of course, I was remembering that time myself, my hand unconsciously stroking the scars from where she'd cut me. The line on my neck from the knife threatening to take my life and the crude word carved into the skin on my arm. I shuddered as the memory took over me.

No, sleep was not going to come easy now at all, I huddled myself into a ball and tried to think of anything but that night, anything to return to the simple joy of being in his arms and having him kiss me the way I'd prayed for ever since he'd been gone.

* * *

I was expecting things to be totally awkward after the night before, so I took my time getting ready the following morning. As it was, it had taken me some time to drag myself out of bed. Sleep hadn't graced me with it's presence for a couple of hours after what had happened. And then when it did, I'd had dreams. Dreams I hadn't had for quite some time.

"Morning," Ron grinned when I finally emerged in the kitchen. He was at the sink, washing up and tidying things away. The children were sat at the table, happily colouring in. "We already had breakfast, but I can make you something, if you like?" he offered, already heading to look in the cold chest. Magical homes had no need for a Muggle style refrigerator, since we didn't use electricity. Instead, it was usually a normal cupboard that was charmed to keep food chilled or frozen as needed.

"No, it's fine thanks. I-I'll just have some tea."

Ron was already refilling the kettle and setting it on the stove all with the power of his wand. I half smiled at the fact using magic was so normal for him again already. I watched him for awhile, sending clean dishes into cupboards and taking my favourite cup out for my tea. It seemed last night hadn't affected him at all, he didn't seem bothered in the slightest. Perhaps, I thought with a defeated sigh, he didn't even remember it happening at all.

Hugo was pulling on my leg then, to show me his drawing and Rosie was shouting me over to look at hers. Ron brought me my tea as I joined them at the table and enthused for awhile over their work. He sat down silently with us, just watching and helping Hugo draw a Quidditch pitch – apparently dragons played Quidditch now. Every so often, he'd look at me, offer me a brief smile and then ask Hugo what they should draw next.

He was placing their drawings on the kitchen wall, with a temporary sticking charm when I finished my tea and set the empty cup in the sink. "Did, erm, did you still want to have that talk today?" I asked, hoping he realised what I meant.

"Yeah," he nodded, watching the kids run off to find something else to do. It was raining outside, looked as though it was going to be an indoors kind of day. "I mean, it's that's okay? I think I need to know."

I nodded in understanding. "Well, let me floo the kids over to your Mum's and we'll start."

"Why?" he wondered.

"I'd rather they didn't overhear anything. And it will be easier to talk without having to entertain them as well." I tried to explain. They were far too young to hear what their parents had been through. Although they knew about bad men and that there had been a very bad man that we'd once fought, they didn't need to know facts. They'd learn about it all soon enough and I was dreading that day.

"Oh. Okay," he shrugged one shoulder. "So, it's that bad, huh?" he looked up at me, anxiety evident on his face.

"It's…well it's not a very happy story. We went through a lot and I don't want them knowing everything yet. They're too young."

He nodded, as though in agreement. "I can take them over if you want? Give you half an hours peace?"

"Would you? That would be great." I smiled. I was going to need that time to plan how to start this and what to tell him. And I wasn't looking forward to any of it.

An hour passed before he returned, I suspected Molly had delayed him, kept him talking. I was sat on the sofa waiting for him, where I had been dozing after my broken nights sleep.

"Were they okay?" I asked, sitting up a little and trying not to look as though I had nodded off. I was getting a bit worried that I was ferrying the children off too much just lately. But they were used to spending the day with their Aunt or Grandma, I remembered.

"Yeah, fine," he kicked off his shoes. "Mum was going to take them to Diagon Alley with her, but as soon as Hugo saw Charlie was there, he wanted to stay. So, Rose is going with Mum and Hugo is staying with Charlie." He told me, whilst putting his shoes in the hallway, under the stairs. Already he'd learnt, or perhaps remembered, I liked things to be in their place.

"Was Charlie okay with that?" I wondered. After all, there was a difference between having fun with your nieces and nephews for a short time, to being left alone and in charge of them.

"Yeah, said he'd take him to see that dragon in Wales." He gave an airy wave of his hand.

"He what?" I almost leapt off the sofa.

"Relax, I'm teasing. Charlie said you'd flip out," he laughed.

"Thanks," I huffed.

"Sorry," he muttered, though he was still laughing.

"Oh shush." I poked my tongue out at him. "Right, well shall we get on with..." I began after a few moments silence.

"Mind if I grab a cup of tea first?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, course not."

"You want one?" he called, already heading to the kitchen.

"Sure, thanks." I replied.

He was back a couple of minutes later with two mugs and a plate of biscuits balanced on top. "Right," he sat down and waited. "Ready now." He smiled, trying to act as though he really was ready for this.

"I've been trying to think how to start with all this." I admitted, almost talking to myself. "And I suppose it makes sense to go right back to the beginning. So how much do you know about Voldemort?" I asked him.

"Oh, erm," he thought about it and scratched his head. "That he was an evil git. Hated Muggles and Muggle-borns. Thought the only decent wizard was a pure blood. And he tried to take over the world. But, he disappeared when I was just a baby. Didn't they say that a baby defeated…him. Oh Merlin's bollocks! Harry Potter!" He gasped. "Harry? Our Harry?"

I nodded.

"Why? How? How the bloody hell did I not make that connection before now?" He shook his head, appalled with himself.

"It's okay. Things are coming back to you slowly, you can't remember it all. Right, well shortly before Harry was born, a prophecy was made. A prophecy claiming that an a wizard born at the end of July who would be able to defeat Voldemort. He took it to mean Harry, though it could have been any wizard child born around the same time really. But, he chose Harry, therefore targeting him for the rest of his life. And, when you and I became best friends with Harry…we kind of got tangled up in the whole thing as well."

"But, he disappeared, didn't he? Voldemort I mean." He frowned.

"For a little while, yes. But he came back. I'll explain how in a bit. You remember Harry and I telling you a bit about our first year in school? The troll and saving the stone and everything?"

"Yeah," he answered warily.

"Well, it was Voldemort after the stone. That was the first time anyone really knew for sure he wasn't gone, that he was still alive in some shape or form and trying all manner of methods to return to power."

"But, he didn't get it, did he? We stopped him?"

"No, he didn't get it. We delayed his return. He kept on trying though – putting Harry's life in danger in the process. Until the second Wizarding war began."

I started with the long and arduous tale by going over details we'd glossed over before from our first year at Hogwarts. How Voldemort had attached a piece of his soul to that of Professor Quirrell. How he had been surviving on Unicorn blood. From there I went on to our second year, about his sister being possessed by Tom Riddle via the diary and continued on through every tale through our years at Hogwarts. He'd interject sometimes with things he remembered, things he was able to recall as our talking about it all triggered a memory somewhere. He remembered the spiders in the Forbidden Forest with a great shudder. Laughed at the memory of my turning myself into half a cat with polyjuice potion. Recalled seeing me lying frozen in the hospital wing after I had been petrified. And remembered his relief when Harry returned, with Ginny alive.

He vehemently insisted that that bloody dog, Sirius in his Animagus form. had almost ripped his leg off when we got discussing our third year. And he looked revolted as he slowly recalled how his pet rat Scabbers, the rat that had slept in his bed and he had fussed over, had turned into that nasty piece of scum – Peter Pettigrew. We talked about the Dementors and he remembered poor old Hagrid sobbing over Buckbeak. He was relived when I reminded him we'd been able to save the beast.

He'd already remembered our row during the fourth year, regarding the Yule Ball. And his embarrassment at asking out Fleur and, with a blush, his jealousy over Viktor Krum. But, he looked guilty as he realised he'd fallen out with Harry that year too. "Why was I such an arse?" he asked me.

"You were just a bit jealous, you were 14," I shrugged, as though that could excuse his behaviour. "I love Harry, but it wasn't always easy being his friend back then, especially for you. You'd been in the shadows of your brothers' achievements for years. Then you go and make friends with probably the most famous wizard in our time. You just thought he was after more glory with the Tri-Wizard tournament. But, you came around when it mattered."

He nodded and talked more of what he could remember. Being part of the second task and Harry rescuing him from the lake. "What bloody kind of school was it?" he asked. "Isn't that rather dangerous, shackling students to the bottom of a lake like that?" He shook his head and laughed slightly.

"We were never in any real danger. And we'd been put under a spell. Besides, no one would have left us down there if the task had gone wrong. I promise."

"Still, seems a bit bloody mental!" He huffed and folded his arms.

He remembered the dragons brought in by his brother and other wizards for the first task. Admitted to me how scared and yet awed he'd been by Mad Eye Moody at first. Although we had good reason too – since he hadn't really been who we'd thought all that year. And he looked positively sick as we both remembered Cedric Diggory's lifeless body returning from the maze with Harry.

"Everything changed after that," I whispered. "Our world became much darker. Voldemort was really back and horrid things started happening more often," I shuddered at the memory.

Before I even started on our fifth year, he suddenly recalled spending his summer cleaning up "That bloody evil looking house!" We both spent some time name-calling that old cow, Umbridge and wishing horrid things to happen to her – as far as I knew, she was still safely locked away in Azkaban, where she was likely to live out her final days. I spoke of our time in the DA with a sense of fondness – all those lessons and practice sessions that helped us achieve what we had, and Ron was able to remember some of it as I spoke. He even recalled taking his O.W.L.s, much to his horror. "Why'd I have to remember something as boring as that?" he pulled a face. But, it was with much less humour he recalled some events that happened at the Ministry. The time we thought we were on a rescue mission for Harry's Godfather, Sirius. Of course, there were moments neither of us would ever remember…we'd both been hit with spells or attacked by evil, magical brains in Ron's case. But, we remembered Sirius with sadness and how depressed Harry had been afterwards.

"Poor bloke never got a break, did he?" Ron asked me. "I mean, he lost his parents and had to grow up with some bloody rotten Muggles. And when he finally gets a father figure, he's killed too." He sighed deeply.

"Harry had it rough," I agreed. "But, our sixth year was a little calmer. At least for awhile. I mean, that was when he started snogging your sister." I laughed at the look on Ron's face over that admission.

"Dirty little bugger" he hissed.

"They are married now," I reminded him, with a laugh. "And that year, you were…erm, never mind," I muttered, not wanting to get into that now. It was ridiculous and stupid that I could still be even slightly jealous over his four month relationship with Lavender. And, I wasn't, not in that sense anyway. I just think it would hurt so much if he remembered kissing her, and not me.

"That was the year I what?" he implored.

"You er, you were on the Quidditch team again." I replied. "Oh…and of course that was the year you got poisoned."

"I what?" He looked horrified, his eyes widening to the size of quaffles as he stared at me.

"Yeah, on your birthday you accidentally ate these chocolates Harry had been given at Christmas. They had been laced with…"

"Love potion," he cut in, remembering with a gentle nod.

"Yes." I nodded. "Then you were accidentally poisoned with some tampered Mead when Harry took you to Professor Slughorn to help with the love potion. You were out of it for a couple of days." I didn't add that that was the first time I thought he might feel about me the way I'd always felt about him. How he'd mumbled my name in his sleep and I'd stayed by his bedside for hours.

Ron looked rather teary eyed as we spoke of Dumbledore's death. He remembered the aftermath, the funeral, but not the battle that had taken place below the Astronomy Tower so much. Though, he finally realised why his brother Bill's face was such a mess, having been attacked by a werewolf.

"So," he sniffed. "That brings us to our seventh year."

"Yes," I sighed, knowing that no matter what I had already told him, this was going to be the worst. "Do you...shall we stop here for now and get some lunch?" I suggested, catching sight of the clock on the mantelpiece and realising it was already almost one in the afternoon.

Ron's eyes followed mine to the clock and it was obvious he hadn't been aware of the time either. "Yeah, sounds good. I can eat." He agreed with a smile.

"You can always eat," I chuckled, gathering up our dirty teacups as he grabbed the half empty packet of biscuits he'd been munching on earlier.

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Reviews make me smile :) Until next week...

And, just an FYI, we have 8 chapters left until the end now.


	16. Chapter 16

_Oops! So sorry this is late, I totally forgot to edit it! Please be aware there is a lot of swearing in this chapter (mostly from Ron and his love of the F word! :p)_

_Thank you, as always, for your generous reviews. There are some lovely people here who kindly take the time to review each chapter - thank you!_

_Disclaimer: I'm not J K Rowling...if I was I might be getting paid to do something I love, instead of being broke and unemployed all the time!_

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**Chapter Sixteen**

We fixed lunch between us and soon sat down at the kitchen table to a hot bowl of tomato soup and huge slabs of crusty bread – the weather outside had turned decidedly cool and spring like again, and a hearty lunch warmed us through.

"Lavender," he suddenly muttered under his breath.

"What?" I asked, my full spoon of soup pausing half way to my mouth. Though, I had caught what he said really and knew he wasn't just commenting on the colour of the flowers on the china we were using.

"Lavender, erm…something. I went out with her, didn't I?" He asked me, setting his spoon down.

"Yes," I forced a smile, the soup slowly draining from my still paused spoon. "For a few months." I added and quickly scooped up another spoonful of soup and shoved it into my mouth, hoping he wouldn't ask anymore about it if I couldn't answer him.

He grinned wryly then, as though a sudden a memory came to him. "She was a bit of a nightmare," he laughed. "And I was a right prat," he shook his head at the images he was seeing. "Was I really like that?" He asked me, looking a bit mortified by whatever memory was playing out in his head right now.

"Obnoxious and rather public?" I asked, sounding a little annoyed. "Yes."

"Ah," he seemed to realise this might be a touchy subject for me. "Why on earth did I go out with her? I mean, when you were. We were, well, why weren't we?" He asked, frowning into his bowl.

I shrugged. "You tell me," I replied. "I think maybe you were trying to prove a point or something. And you and I, well, neither of us had worked up the courage to say how we felt about each other yet. So, I suppose we were as bad as each other," I sighed at the realisation he wasn't totally to blame for that whole débâcle.

Great, he'd remembered his ex-girlfriend. He'd remember her, a girl he'd once claimed had never meant much to him, someone he'd only been with for four mere months. And yet he couldn't remember much about me – the woman he'd insisted had been the only true love in his life. The woman he'd been with for 10 years before he disappeared. The woman he married. But, I suddenly realised, he _had_ actually married me. We had children together, a life. I doubt he'd said more than five words to Lavender since the aftermath of the war.

He nodded thoughtfully and continued eating his lunch, every so often he'd laugh to himself and I couldn't help but wonder what he was seeing in his head and remembering.

"Can I ask you something?" He wiped his hands together to brush the breadcrumbs off when he was done.

"Of course," I nodded, pushing my own empty bowl away.

"Last night. That was real, wasn't it?"

I inhaled sharply, wondering when that was going to come up. "Yes," I confessed, still feeling a bit guilty, as though I had taken advantage of him. "And, I'm sorry I…"

"I thought so," he spoke over me. "I knew it couldn't have just been a dream, it was too real and the feelings were too...terrifying."

"Terrifying?" I squeaked. Kissing me had been terrifying?

"Yeah. I mean, you, you really were…tortured, weren't you? And I couldn't do anything to stop it. All that, it really did happen, didn't it?"

"Oh," this wasn't about the kiss then. "Yes. It, it happened." I whispered.

"Why?" he wanted to know. "Why was that sadistic bitch doing that to you?"

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. I was going to need a lot of those to talk through the memories of that year with him, to talk of things that had happened to us. "We'll…get to it." I promised him. "It happened in the year leading up to the final battle."

He began fiddling with the crumbs on the table, pushing them around with the tip of his finger. "Why do I get the feeling that all the other stuff we've talked about already, everything we already went through, that it's nothing compared to what you're about to tell me?" he asked.

"Because, it kind of is," I agreed. "I mean, we'd been through some horrid, frightening times already and lost friends. But that year, I suppose it became more personal. It wasn't just Harry going through the majority of it alone, it was the three of us. And what you remembered last night, those were some of my very worst memories." I confessed.

He gulped then, rubbed his hands over his face and stood from the table, busying himself with clearing away our lunch and putting the kettle on for more tea. He was definitely his Mother's son – she always seemed to have the kettle on, and I smiled briefly.

"We can leave it if you want to, I mean for now. I know it's already been a rough morning. So, we could do this another day or…"

"No," he turned back to me, shaking his head vehemently. "I mean, might as well get it all out there now – I'll only wonder and worry about it now anyway. It's just, I'm scared I'll find out the nightmares I've had…that they're not just you know, silly bad dreams," he shrugged. "That they're terrible memories. But, I need you to tell me Hermione. I have to know all of it now."

"Okay," I nodded. I could understand his reasoning – it wouldn't be fair to have him wait and worry about what else he'd find out. I just wasn't sure if he was ready to hear all this – his nightmare last night had been horrific for him, what if this stirred up more bad memories that taunted his sleep? But perhaps we needed to talk about all the bad things, so he could push past them and then maybe we could focus on the fun times more. That didn't mean talking about it was going to be any easier. "I suppose I should start with Horcruxes."

"Horcruxes?" He looked up at me with wide, fearful eyes. "Isn't that like, really dark magic?"

I nodded. "Yes. And that's how Voldemort survived. How he was able to come back." I began to explain and continued with the reason we were on the run that year, how we were hunting for them, to destroy them in the hopes it would bring about his defeat. "Of course Harry didn't want us to go with him at first."

"He didn't?"

"No," I shook my head. "He always seemed to think this was his solitary battle and we didn't need to get involved. That we could stay safely away. I don't think it dawned on him that we had been involved the moment we became friends with him. Anyway, after awhile, I think even he realised he needed us, the both of us."

"Shall we take this through to the lounge?" he asked, nodding towards the teapot he has just brewed.

I nodded and followed him through. Once we were settled on the sofa again, cradling mugs of tea, I continued the story, starting from the very beginning. When we went to collect Harry from his Aunt and Uncle's house and how his brother had lost his ear, and how we'd all lost Alastor Moody that night. He said he'd had a few weird dreams about falling off brooms and wand battles in the sky, so maybe that's what he'd been remembering. I agreed with him.

"So, is that how I got this scar?" He asked, rubbing his shoulder absently as I'd told our story of our escape from the Ministry, after stealing the locket.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm sorry. I tried to fix you up as best I could, but…" I shrugged helplessly. I had only been an 18 year old girl doing the best I could with the knowledge I had. Despite what they both thought at the time, I didn't know everything and nor was I capable of doing everything.

"That's what you meant about me making a habit of splinching myself, wasn't it?" He recalled a conversation some weeks back when we'd still been at the farm.

"Yes. Although, technically you didn't splinch yourself this time. That was my fault, I panicked and, I'm sorry."

Ron laughed, as though I was being absurd. "I reckon you saved our necks, again. Why are you sorry?" He cocked an eyebrow and I smiled at him.

I spoke a little of our time living in the tent, how difficult it had been at times, we were tired, hungry and completely cut off from the world for some time. We'd managed to track down and successfully acquire one Horcrux, but were no closer to destroying it and all three of us were becoming despondent, something not helped at all by the effect of that damn locket.

"Harry had us all take turns in wearing it, to keep it safe. You know, after what we'd been through to get it. But, it was horrible. It was just so evil and I hated wearing it. It made things much more tense between us all and we argued a lot more. It was just…"

"I left, didn't I?" he asked, quietly. "I left you and Harry alone in that bloody tent?" He was avoiding eye contact, instead pulling at a thread on his socks, where his feet were tucked under himself.

"Yes." I whispered simply. "But...it, it wasn't your fault. You'd had that locket on all day and all of us were becoming increasingly frustrated that things weren't moving faster. None of us knew what to do next really. It seemed worse for you. It…"

He was shaking his head sadly. "Don't make excuses for me. I left you because I was a bloody spoilt, selfish idiot."

"No," I shook my head sadly. "I, I never thought that."

He looked up at me and merely raised both eyebrows, somehow knowing that wasn't entirely true.

"Okay," I sighed. "At the time I was so mad with you. I ran after you, calling your name and you just, left. Didn't even look back. I hated you and yet I was so sad without you, I missed you. Things were never the same while you were gone and I was so bloody angry when you turned up and acted so nonchalant about it all. Yet, secretly I was thrilled you were okay, that you were here, that you came back. And though it took time, I forgave you. I think the little speech about the balls of light helped," I smiled, wryly, remembering that.

"Balls of light?" He pulled a face.

"You don't remember that? The deluminator? It brought you back to us. To me. See, that's why I forgave you. You might have left us, but, you came back, and you didn't have to. You were safe, with your brother. Yet, you came back, you chose to return and help. Though, I'll admit, I was a bit of a cow to you at first." I confessed and we both smiled at one another.

"So, what was this delumin…thing?"

"Deluminator. It belonged to Dumbledore - he left it for you, in his will. I have never really figured out how it works. It can turn lights on and -"

"- off," he cut in. "It sucked the light out of things and could put them into other light sources?" he asked me. I nodded, with a smile that he was remembering something else. "I used to play with it, in my pocket?"

"Yes, you drove Harry and I insane!" I laughed.

"But, how did it bring me back to you?"

I shrugged. "You said you heard my voice say your name from it. That a ball of light appeared when you clicked it and it led you back to us, to me. I, I've always thought…"

"It... was because I loved you. Because my hearts desire was to be with you?"

"Yes," I gasped, noting that was the first time he had ever said anything about having feelings for me.

Ron seemed to have realised what he'd just disclosed and his ears flared up. I had to smile, I'd always found that adorable – the tell tale sign he was getting angry or embarrassed. "Erm…er, what, what did you mean before?" he stammered. "When you said that it was worse for me, with the locket?" He was fiddling with his sock again.

"Oh," I shook my head, realising we were back to this. "Well, you have to remember we were in a tent, a rather shabby tent with the barest of necessities and hardly anything to eat at all. You'd never had to go hungry before. I mean, you always had your Mum's good cooking or had three square meals at Hogwarts, and, with your appetite," I smiled at him. "Well, I just imagined it was harder for you to deal with."

"That's it? I left you both because I was hungry? Am I such a wimp that I can't make it on a hungry stomach."

"No, of course not. But it certainly didn't help your moods. You've always been rather...hot tempered and easily riled, so extreme hunger did nothing to help that. Plus, you know, my parents were safe out of the way as far as I knew, they were protected. Harry had no family he very much cared for and even then his Aunt and Uncle and cousin Dudley, had been moved somewhere safe. But you, on top of everything we were doing, you had your family out there to think about every day. A family that was known for being supportive of Muggles and Muggle-borns as well as being friendly with the most wanted person – Harry Potter. That can't have been easy for you to deal with, that constant worry. I mean, I know Harry and I cared for them and others too and he was probably just as worried as you about Ginny. But they're your family and they'd already been through so much." I paused.

"Yeah, I guess." he nodded thoughtfully.

"And of course that evil locket intensified all your most negative emotions. It was truly an evil piece of dark magic – it contained a piece of Voldemort himself after all. It took your worst fears, your inner demons and magnified them, played mind tricks on you. You always felt as though you weren't good enough, had terrible self esteem issues. So that damn thing messing with your mind, coupled with everything else you were having to think about and what we were doing. Well," I shrugged. "I always just assumed it was harder for you."

"Still, that's not a very good excuse for leaving you, surely it affected you both too? If it was so evil? The locket I mean. And, it can't have been much fun being cold and hungry for the pair of you either."

"No, it wasn't. And the locket did play with my mind. But, it's in the past now Ron, it doesn't matter – we know it was all lies. When you came back you helped, eagerly. You brought back vital information for us, information that prevented us from being caught or…worse. And, well, you did rescue Harry and destroy that blasted locket." I added.

"I did?" his eyes widened.

I nodded. "You pulled Harry from a frozen lake." I went on to explain how the sword of Gryffindor had finished up down there, and Harry had gone after it, but the locket fought back and almost drowned him. "Then Harry had you destroy it, he said it had to be you. And you did. I know it put up a fight, but…"

"It was horrible," he suddenly gasped, his eyes far away as though he was back in that frost covered forest, fighting with the locket again. "What came out of the locket I mean. It…it's like it read my mind. You're right, my very worst fears and phobias. There were thousands of spiders all over me," he gave a shudder. "And…and it told me things. That, my mother never wanted me, how she'd wanted a daughter and I was a huge disappointment when I was born. That I was the least loved because I hadn't been the girl she wanted. And that, that you preferred Harry over me. That you'd never want me. It spoke in your voice and I saw you kissing…him. I…I…" he stammered and broke off as tears came to his eyes. He sniffed loudly and turned his head to wipe his face on his sleeve. "Fuck," he hissed to himself, trying to regain his composure, feeling like a fool for crying about it.

"Hey, it's okay," I inched closer along the sofa and touched his back, rubbed his shoulder. "I understand. It told me some horrid stuff too. But, it lied Ron. It wanted to hurt you as much as possible and it found your deepest fears to taunt you with. But it was all complete lies." I tried to reassure him.

"What did it tell you then?" He looked up at me, using his T-shirt to wipe his face.

I bit my bottom lip, I'd never told anyone. I hadn't let on to Ron, but then he'd never told me exactly what had happened when he destroyed the locket before either. Not even after the war and we started on this relationship. Not even when things got serious or we got married. He never told me and I never asked, simply because he had never asked me. But now, I couldn't ignore his request when he'd confided in me.

"It said. Told me that…" I paused, took a deep breath and then started again. "It made me believe that I hadn't done the spell well enough on my parents, that they were wandering around Australia lost and confused. It tried to convince me I'd never see them again, that we'd never get through this and it would be all my fault because I didn't really know what I was doing and all my plans were useless. And, it said, you'd never want me the way I wanted you, played on all the worst things I thought of myself, all my flaws. How you could never want someone like me – a neurotic, control freak Muggle-born who thought she knew everything. You're right, it was bloody horrible." I shook my head and tried to smile wryly, before realising I was crying too. "Sorry," I sniffed and rushed off to find some tissues.

"I'm sorry," he muttered when I came back, wiping my eyes. "I, I shouldn't have asked. I know this is hard for you to go over."

"It's okay," I shrugged. "It's just...we've never really told each other what those bloody Horcruxes did to us."

"Never?" He looked utterly surprised.

I shook my head.

"Oh."

"I'll make us some more tea," I suddenly muttered, realising my mug had gone cold. I could have done a simple re-heating charm on the mugs, but I think we both needed a little breather. In the kitchen, I washed my face with cold water and I heard Ron bounding up the stairs, probably to use the bathroom and do the same thing.

When I returned, I glossed over a few unimportant details, though he chuckled when I mentioned Luna and her Dad. He seemed to remember the nargles, which amused him. "I sometimes call our son a nargle," I smiled fondly. "Luna said they're very mischievous, and well, you know what he's like." We both laughed.

And then I reached the part where we were captured by the snatchers and taken prisoners to Malfoy Manor. "This is when that…that bitch hurt you. Isn't it?" he asked, hesitantly.

I nodded, rubbing my arm, over the numerous scars she had left there, absently.

"That dream, last night. It was bloody horrible. I mean, just feeling that helpless and scared. I couldn't get to you, I didn't know how to save you and I just kept thinking I was never going to see you again, that I'd never bloody be able to tell you how much I loved you. I vowed if I ever got out of there, I'd make sure I told you," he gave me a brief, sheepish little smile. I returned it, wondering if he realised he'd just confessed he was remembering having feelings for me, that he loved me. "But…" he continued, "I reckon the actual event, it was a hundred times worse than that dream, especially for you. Wh-what did she do to you?" he asked, quietly, unsure if he really wanted to know or if I'd be able to talk about it.

I stiffened, not wanting to think about it all again. "She…tortured me," I answered simply. "She thought we'd been in her vault at Gringotts and stolen the sword. She wanted to know how we got it and," I paused. "She was an evil, sadistic bitch Ron. She was cruel and unhinged - she actually enjoyed the torture. As evil as any Death Eaters were, as evil as Voldermort was, Bellatrix," I shuddered at her name, "just enjoyed hurting people. I think it gave her a thrill. The cruciatus curse was her favourite," I muttered.

"She didn't?" He looked up sharply, hatred and revulsion towards her evident in his eyes. "She did that, to you? Fuckin' bitch," he hissed, shaking his head sadly. "That wasn't it though, was it? Those scars," he nodded to where I was still rubbing my arm.

"No," I shook my head, a lone tear dripped off my face and landed on my leg. "She cut me, kicked me, yanked me about by my hair. But, we got out of there," I was trying to steer the conversation away from this. It was still a painful reminder, even now. Just the mention of it was almost enough to feel her blade slicing into my skin again, to smell her breath on my face.

"How did you do it?" he asked, almost in awe. "I mean, not give in to her."

"You," I whispered. "Thoughts of you. I could hear you yelling for me and I just concentrated on that. Though, I knew even if I had told her, it wouldn't save me. I was a Mudblood, I was less than worthless to her. She'd have just killed me because she could. But, then Dobby saved us."

"The house elf?" He looked slightly amused at that.

I nodded, giving a little painful smile at his memory. "He unscrewed the chandelier which fell on her. Then he disapparated us out of there, only…only," I swallowed. "She threw her dagger at us as we left, it hit Dobby, and…he died." I whispered.

"Poor guy." Ron shook his head sadly. "Owe that little elf our lives, I reckon."

"We do. He's buried, near your brother Bill's house, which is where we apparated to." I explained. "We were there for awhile, recovering. Fleur patched me up and, after awhile, we went on to plan the next stage in our hunt." I knew I was being somewhat flippant about that whole situation, but I honestly didn't want to talk about it. It was too much for me to remember all that - the pain I'd suffered through after, the nightmares that had haunted me. And I realised one of the reasons I had kept putting off telling Ron any of this was because I still hated talking about it.

I explained all about the break in at Gringotts, how we knew after Bellatrix's irrational reaction that something must be hidden in her vault – possibly another Horcrux. And then how we escaped from that. Suddenly he'd remembered the dragon.

"Bloody hell! Does our son know we flew on a dragon?" He laughed. "Reckon that should impress him."

I smiled. "I've told him, but I think he just thinks it's a funny bedtime story I made up. I'm afraid your brother is the hero where dragons are concerned," I sighed.

I told him how we got to Hogsmeade, how Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, helped us and then got us into Hogwarts after Harry had seen into Voldemort's mind that another Horcrux was there. "And then of course, the big battle began."

I launched into the recount of the battle, trying to give him as much detail as I could, trying not to leave anything out so he could understand what we'd truly been through. As usual, once I got talking, he remembered a few things by himself – his family arriving to join in the fight and McGonagall evacuating all the students under age. I explained how Harry had gone with Luna to find the missing Horcrux, whilst the pair of us realised that, having lost the sword, we needed something to destroy them with. We'd ventured into the Chamber of secrets and retrieved fangs from the Basilisk, enough of its venom still contained within to destroy a Horcrux. How I had destroyed the cup we'd stolen from the vaults of Gringotts.

I didn't mention the kiss. Maybe it was childish, maybe it was just hopeful thinking, but I wanted him to remember that by himself. No, I needed him to remember that. Our very first kiss. The first time either of us had been brave enough to act upon our feelings. I needed Ron to remember that because it meant something to him. Not because I told him about it.

"Fuckin' evil git!" He suddenly hissed upon remembering Snape doing a bunk. "Bloody, fuckin' coward!"

"Ron…" I began. How did I explain that Snape hadn't been the man we'd all thought he was, that he had actually been on our side and everything he'd done had been in some way, for the greater good. Oh yes, he'd been a mean, spiteful and bitter man, I wasn't denying that. No matter his agenda, there hadn't been any need for him to have been so vindictive towards the students or hated Harry on sight simply because he'd reminded him of James. But, he had fought for us in the end, had been very brave. "He…he wasn't as bad as you think, he was a double agent. I know he was a mean old git, but honestly, he was on our side." I left it at that for now. If he didn't remember anything else, he could always ask Harry about it, he knew more than I did on that matter anyway.

I talked him through the whole chaos of teachers, students and family defending the castle. Students being evacuated, the gargoyles and suits of armour being brought to life to help the cause – the whole battle waging on us.

The moment I mentioned our venture into the room of requirement, for the lost Diadem, he remembered the scuffle and then the fire and our hasty retreat, and then, "Draco Fucking Malfoy!" He hissed with menace. "What the bloody fuck did we rescue him for?" he spat. "He was a complete tosspot throughout school, a right two-faced bastard and then Harry saves him? Why?"

"Because Harry isn't like Draco or all those others, he has morals and, look," I inhaled deeply and tucked my hair back behind my ears. "That really doesn't matter right now."

"Well, please at least tell me he got what he deserved? That someone at least smacked him one or he got thrown in Azkaban?" He sat looking at my face when I didn't answer him. "He didn't, did he?" he seemed to realise.

I shook my head. "They were brought before the Wizengamot and they were tried for their involvement. His father served a few years in Azkaban earlier. But, because they helped with the names of missing Death Eaters, they were given a pardon. Though, they pretty much fell from grace after that, lost their status in the wizard community." I shrugged. Even I felt that wasn't quite justice for their involvement with Voldemort, but I'd come to terms with all that now. I'd had to let it go.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed and rolled his eyes, knowing he got off lightly. "Anyway," he waved it away, before he became consumed with vengeful thoughts. "What happened then?" he asked, as thought listening to an interesting story, not something he had lived through.

"Then…then," I stammered, remembering what came next. "Fred…" I whispered, looking up at him with the threat of tears.

Ron's eyes widened as he looked up at me. "He died in the battle?" he whispered, reverently.

I nodded and then panicked as Ron seemingly crumpled in front of me. He gave a huge sob and drew his knees up to his chest. "Oh fuckin' Merlin," he whispered, burying his head in his knees. "Fuckin' hell…" he repeated. "I…remember," he mumbled, giving a shuddering breath. "I remember it…the wall, smoke, Percy screaming. Fuckin' hell." he clasped his hands tightly over his head and I heard him sniff loudly.

I was at his side in an instant, a hand gently rubbing his back as he sobbed for his lost brother. He turned his head then, dropped his knees and flung his arms around me, crying into my chest, clinging to me in the same near desperate way he had last night. I knew this was going to be hard for him. We'd all had years to grieve for Fred, to come to terms with losing him. For Ron, it was as though he'd only just lost a brother. He was seeing it all again for the first time. "I'm sorry," I whispered, rubbing his back, attempting to comfort him as I shed a few tears for his pain. "I'm sorry," I repeated, not knowing what else to say. I just held him and let him cry and grieve.

Some time passed as we each silently remembered the fallen heroes of the battle. After Fred, he recalled Tonks and Remus. Colin Creevey and seeing Lavender attacked by the great revolting werewolf, Greyback. At least I could tell him she'd made it. She was badly injured, she still bore scars and suffered some side effects, but she was alive. He merely nodded at that news, one life saved seemed too few out of those we'd lost.

Ron took himself into the back garden after awhile, he said he needed some air. I suspected he needed to go and rant and rage at the world for its unfairness and I didn't deny him his right to do that. It wasn't fair that we'd lost Fred, or Tonks, or Remus. It wasn't fair we'd lost so many innocent lives when people like the Malfoy's got off free. I knew that. But I'd had years to come to terms with everything that had happened and some therapy had helped. But, as he remembered these things, they were all fresh for him again and I knew he was going to be emotionally spent tonight. This was bloody rough on him.

Whilst he was outside, I made us some more tea, and found some of the cake we'd made for tea yesterday that was left over. Tea and chocolate cake were good for heartache, I decided. Ron seemed appreciative when he came back in and tucked into his slice silently.

Eventually, when he was ready, I continued the recount of that dreadful night. Our fight to find Nagini, knowing we needed to kill the snake – thinking he was the last Horcrux. And then Snape's death at the hands of said snake, ordered by Voldemort. "Did he know he'd betrayed him? That Snape had betrayed Voldemort I mean?" Ron asked.

"No," I shook my head sadly. "I don't think so, Snape's death was just a convenience for him. He thought Snape was the master of the Elder wand. He needed to defeat him, in order to gain power of the wand. That was the only reason he died at that time."

Ron shook his head, unable to believe anyone could be that cold and callous. That death and murder came so easily and were so natural to someone was scary.

And now we were down to the final hours. When Harry had learnt he was the last, though unintentional, Horcrux. How he knew he had to sacrifice himself in order to beat Voldemort. None of us knew he'd gone into the forest to meet his presumed doom. And then the moment where we all thought Harry was dead.

"Wait, so…Harry died. But then he came back?" Ron asked, scratching his head.

"No," I smiled patiently and touched his knee where his leg was folded underneath himself. "You see, when Voldemort used the killing curse on Harry that night, it destroyed the Horcrux that was in Harry. A piece of Voldemort's soul had latched itself onto Harry when he'd tried to kill him as a baby. He was the Horcrux that Voldemort had never intended to make"

"Oh. Right. So, why'd he fake it then?"

"He had to!" I almost squeaked. That was obvious, wasn't it? "If he knew Harry was still alive, he'd have cursed him again, and well…that time he would have killed him and it would have been all over for everyone. Harry had to fake it and wait until the right moment."

"Oh, yeah," he nodded, feeling foolish for not realising. "So, was that all the Horcruxes then? I lost count," he admitted with a wry grin.

"Just the snake to go. He had it protected in this magical bubble. Anyway, Neville managed to kill the snake in all the chaos of the giants and the centaurs arriving."

"Hold on…Neville? As in Longbottom?"

"You remember him?" I smiled. This talk may have been painful and fraught with emotion, but it was doing wonders for his memories.

"Yeah," he scoffed. "I remember him as a rather plump, totally insecure, clumsy kid. I mean, a lovely guy, good friend and a kind heart. But, well, not exactly a hero." He shrugged almost apologetically.

I half laughed. "He grew up Ron, I think our friendship and guidance in the DA helped his confidence. Don't forget he helped us that time in the Ministry. And he'd been fighting back all that year at Hogwarts whilst we were on the run. Protecting students and standing up to the Death Eaters in the school."

"Oh," he nodded as he gained some recollection. "Well, that was good. Good on you Neville!" He cheered for his old friend.

I continued with all the action that unfolded next. Hundreds of reinforcements arriving in the shape of family, friends, villagers of Hogsmeade, the house elfs and centaurs. The battle going on in the great hall, the duels happening everywhere. Death eaters trying to make a run for it. The Malfoy's searching for their son. And then Bellatrix advancing on Ginny.

"Mum killed Bellatrix." He remembered with awe. It wasn't a question, but a statement.

I nodded with a small satisfied smile. "Oh, she did. Quite spectacularly I might add."

"Way to go Mum!" He threw his fist in the air and gave a little whoop, pride evident for his mother. I smiled indulgently, thinking his Mum would be quite pleased with the comment.

Finally, after hours of wading through painful, gruelling memories, I was coming to the end of our story. Our story of the months, years we'd had to endure in the clutches of such evil. Of all the horrors we'd lived through. All the innocent lives lost and it had all come down to one thing. "And then Voldemort fell. Died a mortal man who never showed any remorse for his actions, so full of himself he never once saw the flaws in his plan."

"Just like that then, it was all over?" Ron looked at me. "All because of a bloody wand?"

"Well, yes," I shrugged a shoulder. "I mean, you have to remember that with all the Horcruxes destroyed, he was just as mortal as you and I by then. And Harry was, _is_," I corrected myself, "a talented wizard. I think he could have beat him if it had come down to a duel, if the wand hadn't failed Voldemort. And of course Harry wasn't alone. He never had been," I smiled.

"Wow," he whispered and slunk back in his seat.

"Yeah," I replied, suddenly feeling exhausted. It had been a long day and I felt an emotional wreck, so I don't know how Ron felt. I looked at him, the tracks of tears still evident on his face, his eyes red and puffy from crying and he looked how I felt.

"I don't get one thing though," he spoke up.

"What's that?" I asked him wearily.

"Well, if Dumbledore knew all this, about the Horcruxes I mean. He could have been tracking them down years ago and, well, maybe we'd never had to suffer those months,"

"But he didn't know, not really. He first suspected something when Harry destroyed the diary. But he still needed Slughorn's memory to be sure. Plus, as awful as it sounds, Harry needed to be old enough and capable enough to fight him – he would still have had to make that sacrifice either way. There was always that part of the soul inside Harry."

"Oh," Ron sat back heavily against the cushions. "Yeah, forgot that part."

"You did great today," I told him proudly, rubbing his shoulder over his soft cotton T-shirt in a sign of encouragement. Ron merely nodded at me, becoming lost in his thoughts. I wondered if he was coming up with more questions for me, but he remained silent.

We sat in silence for a while. I knew it was going to take Ron some time to digest all of this. Even though he had remembered a lot of it himself, many moments had been new revelations to him. And he'd need to grieve for his brother all over again. I felt a huge pang for him, he didn't deserve that. Quietly, I edged closer, so I was by his side and took hold of his hand, wanting to offer him some comfort. He glanced down at my fingers as they curled through his and he squeezed my hand slightly before giving a deep shuddering sigh and settled against my shoulder.

After some time, we sat murmuring about the people we'd lost, I shared some of my memories of them with him. Some he was able to recall as well. And we shed a few more tears for them all – Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody, Dobby, Fred, Tonks, Remus, Colin, even a little sadness was spared for Snape. I knew Ron didn't know the full story about him yet, all he remembered was him being a cruel and mean man, but I was sure he'd come to forgive him. As I had, in time.

"Oh Merlin!" I suddenly sprang from the sofa with a gasp.

"What?" Ron looked worried, glancing nervously around us.

"I didn't realise how late it was. It's almost dark." I looked out the window where the garden was already bathed in twilight. Neither of us had noticed we'd been sat in almost darkness. "I should go get the kids." I felt distraught that I had forgotten about them and began scurrying about to find my shoes and fix my face.

Ron inhaled deeply as he stood from the sofa, stretching out stiff muscles from our afternoon ensconced there. "I'll go," he offered, stretching his long arms over his head. "I want a quick word with Mum anyway," he added mysteriously. "You could make a start on dinner then?" he suggested.

"You sure you're okay?" I asked him. It had been a trying day for him and I knew his emotions were all over the place. And his eyes still looked swollen and red to me.

He nodded. "Yeah. Erm...I want. I want to see Fred's grave," he muttered.

"Oh Ron," I almost cried for him. "Let me come with you," I offered and reached for him.

He shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'll just ask Mum where it is and…I'd kinda like a few minutes alone with…him," he confessed.

"Well, okay then," I gave in reluctantly. I didn't want him to go through this alone, but he knew what he needed better than me. "You take as long as you want, okay?" I offered him a watery smile, when what I really wanted to do was hug him. It was bloody ridiculous after that scintillating kiss last night that I was still nervous about touching him. "I'll make dinner and keep it warmed until you all get back."

He nodded, whilst pulling his shoes on. And then with a quick squeeze of my hand, he stepped into the fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo powder and with a clear call of 'The Burrow', he disappeared in a swirl of green.

* * *

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So...until next week and I promise to post on time!


	17. Chapter 17

_Look - I'm posting on time - amazing! :p I hope you like this chapter - it's kind of a filler to get the story moving - but there's some sweet moments :)_

_Thanks as always for your awesome reviews...especially the 2 or 3 of you who reply to nearly every chapter - it's appreciated so much :)_

_Disclaimer: Not Ms Rowling, just a fan._

**Chapter Seventeen**

The expression on Ron's face had said it all when he'd brought the kids home from his parents that night. It was the same look of pain I'd seen on his face once before. After the dust had settled following that final battle and after we'd all grabbed some much needed sleep, came the solemn realisation that his brother was gone and wouldn't ever be coming back.

My heart went out to him – it wasn't at all fair for him to go through all that for a second time. But, being the doting father that he was remembering to be, he put on a brave face for our children over dinner. Smiling and nodding as they told us excitedly about their day with Grandma and Uncle Charlie. Grandpa, it seems, had been at work most of the day.

It wasn't until after they'd gone to bed that he'd told me about his Mum taking him down to Fred's grave, which sat under an apple tree on the border of the Weasley property, and that he'd also come across his own memorial. "It was just a shock, you know," he whispered in the lounge.

I nodded, trying to be understanding, but not really having a clue how he was feeling. What would it be like seeing your own memorial? Seeing a marker with your own name on it, your date of birth and date of assumed death. There had been no grave since we'd obviously never had a body. But, the marker – a statue of a Griffin on a pedestal with a simple plaque, had sat beside his brothers.

"I'm sorry," I murmured back. "I mean, I should have thought to warn you. In all the excitement of having you home, I forgot all about that even being there. I…I've avoided that spot since the service," I admitted shamefully. I didn't even really remember the service – those lost months were something of a blur to me.

"S'not your fault," he mumbled. "It just, well it kind of brought it him home for me that you all really had thought I was gone. That my parents thought they had lost another son. My siblings lost another brother. And you," he broke off with a sad shake of his head. "For the past two years or so, I had been pretty much to dead to you all."

"But you're not," I tried to smile at him. "You're here. We got you back. You're a son, brother, husband and father for us all over again."

"Yeah," he mumbled, sounding exhausted. It had been a long and emotional day for both of us.

Ron remained somewhat subdued for a few days after our long talk and his visit to the grave. Oh, he'd play with the children just the same – he'd joke and mess about with them, making them giggle. And he'd talk with me normally. But…sometimes, you'd see him drift off into himself. He'd sit, quietly and stare into thin air, lost in his own thoughts with that pained expression etched upon his face again as he dwelt on things.

I hated to see him this way and almost regretted telling him anything. It had taken all of us months to recover just physically from everything we'd been through, the emotional side had taken years to heal. It was entirely unfair that he had to begin that process all over again.

* * *

"Yes. I'll talk to Ron and let you know," I spoke into the mobile phone I was holding to my ear in one hand. The other held my wand – guiding a levitating basket full of dirty laundry down the stairs in front of me. I'd just been clearing out the children's bedrooms. "I promise, Mum. Bye." I sighed and ended the call.

"Talk to me about what?" Ron asked, suddenly appearing from the kitchen. He startled me and I lost control of the spell, causing the basket to fall to the floor, spilling it's entire contents.

I muttered a curse under my breath, shoved the phone onto the side table in the hallway and bent to retrieve everything. Ron beat me to it, having set the two glasses of juice he'd obviously been taking through to the children down and was already throwing things back into the basket.

"So, talk to me about what?" He repeated his question, looking up at me in the middle of his task and then glanced at the last item he'd just picked up. He flushed when he realised it was one of my bras and he rammed it deep into the pile to hide it.

"Erm," I began as I stood up again and held my hands out for the basket. Ron ignored me and nodding for me to go on ahead of him as he following me into the kitchen with the basket. He set it down on the counter, before leaning his backside against it, folding his arms and cocking one eyebrow as he waited for me to answer him.

"That was my Mum on the phone," I began. "My parents have invited us for tea. I mean, the four of us, on Friday." I turned to let him ponder that whilst I lifted the lid of the laundry tub and tapped it with my wand to start heating the water for a load

"Oh," he stiffened, standing up a bit straighter, unsure on this new information.

"They would love to see you Ron, they've always been very fond of you." I gave him a smile, turning back to the basket.

"Really?" He looked surprised.

"Well, of course they have," I replied in disbelief. "They know you're a good person and that you treat me well and make me happy."

Ron muttered something under his breath that I didn't quite catch. But I believe he may have been implying that he used to make me happy.

I let it go and continued. "They were very upset when you were…when we lost you. You're like a son to them." I added, knowing it to be true.

Ron looked rather surprised at that, both eyebrows flicking up underneath his fringe and his arms loosened from their firm grasp around his body.

"So…do you want to go? I asked hopefully. "There's no pressure, if you don't want to, they'll understand. But, I haven't seen them in a couple of weeks and neither have the kids so…"

"Fine," he nodded. I must have looked at him in surprise, because he added, "It is just tea right? I mean, just the four of us and them two?" He checked.

"Yes. Mum's not quite as good at cooking as your mum, but don't ever tell her I said that!" I warned with a slight laugh. "She does do some amazing baking though," I added. "And was already planning to get started on things for the weekend."

"Well, in that case, we'll have to go. Can't have her baking go to waste. Friday you said?"

"Yes, Friday." I nodded, pleased he had been so compliant in going. I'd been prepared for one of his tantrums or an argument. Ron smiled, possibly knowing he'd surprised me.

"Daddy! Where my dwink?" Hugo asked, wondering into the kitchen in a rather unusual get up.

"Oh, sorry buddy. Got talking to Mummy." Ron darted back to the hallway and retrieved both glasses of juice.

"Hugo, sweetheart. Who helped you get dressed this morning?" I wondered, fighting back a smirk.

"Me did it!" He held his arms out by his side, proudly.

"Here you go." Ron returned and handed him one of the glasses of juice. "Yeah, he insisted on dressing himself this morning," Ron caught my eye and we shared a grin.

"Well, big boy, don't you look...special?" I couldn't help it and a giggle escaped.

Hugo just grinned back at me before gulping his juice and wandered off, not a care in the world. I watched him go – wearing his red knee length football shorts my Dad had bought him, one of his Grandma's knitted jumpers – purple with a green dragon on the front and his fuzzy puffskein slippers.

Ron and I shared another look and then broke down in laughter. "That son of ours," I shook my head.

"He was so pleased with himself, I hadn't the heart to change him." Ron giggled.

"Bless him." I smiled, beginning to sort through the mass of laundry. "Oh, I was going to ask," I looked up from the pile. Ron had paused on his way to take the juice to Rose. "Did you have anything that needs washing?" I hadn't wanted to go snooping in his room. I hated that he had '_his_' room in '_our__'_ house, but, I was dealing with it.

"Yeah, probably. But, don't worry, I can do it." he shrugged.

"Don't be silly, we're all family. It makes more sense for me to just do it all together."

"Oh, okay. I'll...fetch it then." He nodded and headed off.

I returned to sorting through the mounds of clothes, Hugo had been hiding dirty socks at the bottom of his bed again and Rose was in the process of changing her nightclothes every night. And suddenly I wondered if Ron was embarrassed about me seeing his underwear. How utterly ridiculous, I laughed to myself. I mean, we had two children, I think it was pretty obvious I'd seen a damn sight more than just his underwear! I was still grinning to myself when Ron brought his clothes down, he gave me a rather funny look as he sorted them himself and shoved them into the load already in the wash tub.

"Actually, Ron." I stopped him before he left the kitchen again. He turned and waited expectantly for me to continue. "There was something else I wanted to talk to you about." I could hear the children playing together quite contently for once in the lounge and figured now was as good a time as any to speak to him.

"Yeah?" he asked cautiously and pulled out a chair at the table. He sat down and glanced up at me through his fringe and then stared at his fingers, picking at a scratch on his knuckle.

Casting a charm on the tub to begin washing the clothes, I sat down at the table with him. "It's nothing bad," I almost laughed at the look on his face. "It's just, I've been home from work almost five weeks now. And, though I'm lucky I've got an extremely lenient boss, I really do need to get back to my job."

"Oh, right," he nodded. Looking slightly less worried, he left his hand alone and looked up at me. "I mean, that makes sense."

I smiled at him. "I guess I was just wondering if that was okay with you?"

"Of course," he spluttered. "I mean, one of us needs to work right, and I can hardly go back to being an Auror when I can barely remember even being one." He frowned and I knew that realisation hurt him.

"It will all come back soon," I assured him, laying my hand on top of his and stroked his fingers lightly before pulling back. He gave me a brief smile, but he wasn't convinced. "Anyway," I added brightly. "I was wondering what to do about the children? I only work part time, but do you want me to arrange their usual care. Or…"

"I can look after them!" he cut in rather abruptly. "I am their dad!" He seemed totally affronted that I might suggest otherwise. "Do you not trust me with them or something?" he accused me.

"No, of course that's not what I meant!" I snapped back at him. "I just...I didn't want to assume."

"Well, they're my kids too, so I will take care of them!"

"Fine! Then, I'll go back to work next Tuesday." I stood up, pushing my chair back in under the table rather harsher than was needed and retreated to the library, closing the door louder than was needed as well.

Charlie almost tumbled out of the fireplace that same afternoon – he was a big guy and our fireplace wasn't quite as big as his parents. Hugo squealed with glee the moment he saw him and practically leapt on him.

"Hugo, you be nice to your Uncle." I warned, coming from the kitchen to see what all the noise was about.

"Oh, he's okay. Aren't ya buddy?" Charlie asked, bouncing him in his arms, pretending to drop him and then grab him quick. It didn't matter how old my children were, my heart still almost stopped whenever he did that. Just like the time I'd caught Ron levitating our then six month old son in the air!

"You tell me dwagons?" Hugo demanded.

"Yeah, in a bit buddy, is your daddy around?" he wondered, directing the question at me.

"He's outside, in the shed. He and Rose and looking for his broom." I explained.

"I wan' broom!" Hugo demanded, struggling to get down from his Uncle's arms and head outside as well.

"Well, you could have gone with them, but you've only just finished your lunch young man," I sighed. He dawdled over his food terribly, preferring to play or chatter on about nothing, and needed constant reminders to eat. He certainly didn't have his father's appetite!

"Come on," he tried to tug his Uncle after him, not moving him an inch.

"I thought I could take him out, maybe the Muggle pub in your village?" he suggested. "That dragon business in Wales is almost sorted, so I'll probably be heading back to Romania in a couple of days." He went on to explain.

"I think Ron would enjoy an afternoon out," I realised. "He's been a bit down since I had to tell him everything about the war and all that." And then our tense words this morning hadn't helped, I knew that.

Charlie smiled, finally letting Hugo drag him along, he patted my shoulder as he went past. "I'll cheer him up," he promised and went out to look for him.

Somehow during that pub visit, Charlie managed to do what I hadn't been able to. Talked Ron into visiting Bill and finally taking him up on that open ended offer to visit any time. Charlie was visiting Shell Cottage the next day and convinced Ron that we should all go with him and make an afternoon of it. It was heart-warming to see him reconnecting with his siblings and gradually rebuilding those relationships, though perhaps a little clumsily and not without some exasperation on Ron's part. I knew it frustrated him no end that he didn't remember things - things he felt he should know and that were important to him. I wondered if it frustrated him as much as me that he couldn't remember much of our romantic relationship? He was getting there on our friendship. But, as yet, nothing of our romance and it was driving me insane that I couldn't figure out why!

Soon enough though, they were back to the playful banter that only happens between siblings – the calling each other daft names, the teasing and bickering all done with love. Bill even managed to get Ron up on a broom again when he suggested they went for a toss about with the quaffle on the secluded, deserted beach where their house resided. Leaving the children, our two and Bill's three, to dig massive holes and play on the sand. Fleur and I spread ourselves out on a blanket, watching the goings on and enjoying the picnic - making the most of the sun now that summer seemed to be making an appearance.

Before we left Shell Cottage, shortly before twilight set in, I led Ron down to the very end of the property, stopping by a small grave between the flower beds, with a simple stone as a marker.

'Here Lies Dobby. A Free Elf'

"I seem to be spending a lot of time at gravesides," Ron muttered, watching as I placed something gently on his grave. "Too many people died," he then added, sadly and sniffed.

"They did," I agreed, looking at him tenderly. I didn't want to make him cry again. "But, think of how many lives were saved by what we managed to do?"

Ron simply shrugged and looked glum. We'd still lost his brother, we hadn't been able to save Fred. Ron sniffed again and wiped his face on his sleeve, trying to be surreptitious about it. "Why'd you bring him a sock?" He finally realised what it was I had placed on his grave, weighed down by a couple of pebbles I'd picked up.

I smiled, thinking of the friendly little elf that had saved our lives. "Dobby loved socks," I said. "You know the only way to free a house elf from his master is to present him with clothes?" I asked, Ron nodded. "Well, Harry kind of tricked Mr Malfoy into freeing Dobby with his own sock. So, after that, they were his favourite item of clothing, he never liked them to match though," I chuckled fondly at the memory.

"Mummy!" Came a yell from the cottage behind us. "Hugo's been sick!" Our daughter added.

I sighed wearily. "Thank you Dobby," I whispered, before turning and making my way back to the house.

"No wonder he's sick," Ron followed after me. "I swear I saw Bill's eldest daring him to drink sea water!"

"Oh great," I groaned. It looked as though it might be a long night. Even with magical potions that worked instantaneously – Hugo behaved just like a man with any illness and he'd be getting rid of that sea water for awhile yet.

* * *

"Would you like any more Ron?" My Dad offered him another sausage from the barbecue.

"Oh, no thank you Mr Granger. I'm stuffed." I smiled, knowing with his appetite he'd have been able to squeeze a couple more in. I suspected he was being polite.

"Ah well, all the more for you boy, huh?" Dad glanced down at the little brown and white dog sat patiently at his feet for any titbits. The dog was a very new addition to the family, something both Rose and Hugo had been ecstatic about when we arrived. I just couldn't believe my parents had bought a dog!

"It was delicious though," Ron added, politely.

"That would be my special secret sauce." He winked and tapped the side of his nose covertly.

"Dad, please," I laughed at him. "The only secret about that sauce is that it comes from Tesco and you disguise it in another jar." I knew all his secrets – he'd been doing the same thing for years.

"Hey now, don't go giving trade secrets away!" Dad warned me playfully. "Honestly, these women." Dad spoke to Ron and both men chuckled.

I rolled my eyes.

"You save some room for dessert anyway, dear." Mum patted his hand and made to take all the dishes into the kitchen. I got up to help as Hugo jumped down from the table to play with the dog again.

"Hugo? What do you say?" I asked, reminding him of his manners.

"Erm…good boy Rory!" He patted the dog on the head and grinned at me.

I groaned in defeat as all the adults laughed at him.

"Please can I get down Mummy?" Rose asked me, handing me her now empty glass.

"Yes, you may sweetheart," I smiled. At least I'd managed to instil some manners into one of my children.

Things seemed to be going well. There were a few nerves beforehand, for both parties. Mum had asked me how to treat Ron and I told her to behave exactly as she always had with him. Dad was a little tense with him at first, but soon relaxed when he realised he was just the same son-in-law as always, that he was loving and patient with his grand kids and kind to his daughter. I think he was still being protective of me, thinking Ron had some ulterior motive. But, things were fine now, I glanced back to find them talking together. I couldn't tell what they were talking about, but Ron was smiling, so it couldn't have been that bad.

Before dessert, Mum insisted on taking me down the garden to see the sunflowers she'd planted with the children a few weeks ago, they were growing steadily now and Rose joined us to proudly show off her gardening skills.

"Maybe you'll join your Uncle Neville and be great in Herbology," I hugged her as she showed them off, proud that hers was growing the tallest. Mum had attached little name tags to each.

She shook her head. "I want to be bestest at potions!" she insisted.

Mum just sighed. "Still feels weird to hear my daughter and grandchildren talking of such strange school subjects as Potions and Charms. How about something like Geography or History?"

"History of Magic, Grandma?" Rose asked, tilting her head to the side. I smiled as I cupped my daughters cheek, almost five years old and she had all of Hogwarts subjects memorised already and knew what she wanted to learn the most. She reminded me of myself so much sometimes. And then, other times she was purely her father's daughter. I sighed wistfully as she ran back up the garden, pausing to kiss her Dad's cheek and then roll around in the grass with her brother and Rory.

"I can't believe you bought a dog Mum," I voiced my earlier thoughts, watching my children.

"I know," Mum turned and looked back at them all. "It was something your Dad really wanted though. It was never fair when we were both working all the time, but since we retired. Well, I know he likes to keep busy. Plus, it's a little quiet at home all the time with just the two of us," she explained. "Then when he took me to the rescue centre, just to look he had promised. It was me who couldn't resist that little guys face," she smiled as my Dad handed the children a ball to throw for the dog.

"I know, but you always insisted dogs were too much work."

"Oh, he's totally your father's dog. They do everything together already, follows him everywhere. He's good for your dad." She held my hand and patted it.

"He seems happy," I commented, watching as he had got up to join the children and the little dog bounded all over him.

"He is. That little dog has given him a new lease of life." she smiled wistfully as she watched her husband of 35 years playing on the ground with his young grandchildren and an excitable dog. "How about you?" She suddenly queried. "Are you happy?"

"Yes," I answered promptly, without even thinking about it as I turned to look at the flowers again.

"Really?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Of course," I smiled. "I have Ron back, my family is together again, what more could I ask for?" I knew I was forcing this smile a little too much.

"So, everything is good between you and Ron?" She wondered, as we walked slowly around the garden, towards my Dad's tiny greenhouse.

I sighed then and looked up at her. "Yeah, I guess."

"You don't sound too sure love?"

I groaned and stopped walking, my shoulders drooping a little in defeat. "We get on fine, I mean, our friendship is fine. You know - talking, being parents, sharing chores, all that is just…fine."

"Fine?"

"That's all it is Mum, friendship," I gave in, my voice wobbling as I realised tears were threatening to fall. "We're almost like a couple of good friends who simply live together and raise kids between us."

"Well, a good friendship is an important basis for any relationship love. There's a lot to be said for being friends."

"I know, but," I sighed, trying to work out how to word my thoughts. "It's just, there's no…romance or, well…sex," I whispered, blushing at discussing that with my mum. "Not even a hint of it."

"Hermione, love." She hugged me to her and I felt glad we were shaded from view by the greenhouse. I would hate for Dad to see and think something was wrong. I wasn't going to explain to him that I was frustrated because my husband wouldn't sleep with me!

"I just, I miss that. You know. I mean, more the intimacy, the connection and everything. I just miss being able to hold him and kiss him. The mere mention and he blushes and runs off!" I rolled my eyes. "It's like he can remember a lot of things now, stupid insignificant things, but he can't remember our relationship, his love for me, and I don't know what to do." I sounded as though I was wailing now.

"It will come sweetheart." She smoothed her hands over my hair. "Give him some more time. I mean, it's almost sweet he's not jumping straight into bed with you."

"Mum! There's nothing sweet about it. It's just bloody frustrating!"

"Hermione!" She chastised me for the language. "I just meant, it was kind of gallant of him. He's a young, virile man. He's living with a woman who would welcome him into her bed at a moment's notice from the sound of things." She seemed almost scandalised by the realisation and made me sound like some scarlet woman! "And yet, he's holding back, waiting until he really remembers what you have, until he knows he loves you too."

"Still frustrating," I muttered under my breath. But, I had heard what she'd said. I suppose in a way it was kind of…nice to know he wasn't ready to jump into bed with any woman who told him she loved him.

"Mummy!" Hugo called from the other end of the garden. "I need a wee wee!" He yelled loud enough for the neighbours to hear.

"Coming," I called back. He'd only been out of nappies for about six months, potty training much later than his sister had, so whenever he needed to go, he really needed to go.

"I'll take him," Ron called. "Don't worry."

Mum just gave a look then, as if to say 'see, you're lucky to have him'! And I knew I was. Damn it, I knew he was an amazing father and all of the rest of it. But was it really so bad that I wanted the husband I loved and desired back in my bed too?

Mum and I were in the kitchen, getting the strawberry shortcake out of the fridge when Hugo came wandering through by himself. "Where's your daddy?" I asked, watching as he sat on the floor, struggling to put his shoes back on to go outside. Mum had the kids well trained about taking their shoes off indoors.

Hugo shrugged, grunting as he pulled his shoe on.

"That's the wrong foot sweetheart." I crouched down and swapped them over for him, watching as he attempted again. "So, where is daddy?" I repeated, once he had his shoes on and I bent again to tie the laces.

"Upstairs." He waved in the general direction of the staircase as he jumped to his feet. "He's just looking at a room," he added skipping off outside.

I frowned, wondering what that meant and still Ron hadn't come down. "I'll be right back," I told Mum and headed off to find him.

"Hey, you coming down?" I asked gently, reaching the landing and finding him just gazing through an open doorway. "Mum's taking dessert out." I offered, thinking that would tempt him.

"This was your room, wasn't it?" he nodded towards the doorway in front of him.

"Yes," I smiled wistfully, joining him and looking at my old childhood room. Most things had been moved with me when I left home. But there were still a few primary school certificates and trophy's on a shelf. A couple of stuffed animals sat amongst a lonely and empty bookshelf – all my books having come with me. And my small, single bed was still covered in the same pink and white patchwork quilt. "My childhood room," I sighed. "I spent so many hours in here, reading, watching the kids in the neighbourhood playing in the street and not feeling a part of them." I remembered.

He nodded, continuing to glance curiously around the room.

"Ron, what made you stop here?" I asked, my heart suddenly thudding loudly. Had he, he couldn't possibly have remembered something else significant that had happened in this very bedroom. Something that my father would have thrown him out of the house for and probably banned me from ever seeing him again.

Ron shrugged. "I dunno, something pulled me here. There's something, I know there is, but I can't remember it. I've been in this room though, haven't I?"

"Well, yeah. You helped me pack when we moved and you came to visit once, picking me up to spend the summer with you. My parents wanted to meet yours, so, you all came for tea once." I added. Ron looked surprised at that.

"Nah, that's not it," he shook his head. "There's something more." And then he heaved a great sigh and leant back against the doorjamb. "Damn it, I wish I could remember stuff easier," he complained.

"You're doing great," I repeated the mantra, and gave him a smile.

"I wish I could remember more about you. About us," he then whispered and reached out to push a thick lock of hair back behind my ear. Our eyes met and for a few seconds the moment was so sweet, so tender - my heart thudding so loudly it was a wonder he couldn't hear it. For a second I thought, maybe...perhaps he was going to...kiss me.

"Hermione! Ron!" Mum called upstairs and completely ruined the moment.

"We should go," Ron turned quickly and was already stomping down the stairs. I heaved a huge sigh as I pulled myself away from my room, following him down.

* * *

"I'm sorry for us all just descending on you today," Ginny apologised, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table.

"It's fine," I turned from pouring us both ice cold glasses of pumpkin juice, whilst setting up a tray with a jug full of juice and glasses to take outside. "It's nice to see you all."

"Thanks. The kids have been driving me insane today, and with Harry away still, I needed some adult company."

Harry was away in Europe, on Auror business. Nothing dangerous, but there was a lot of bureaucratic red tape he had to deal with from time to time. He hated doing it, said it bored him rigid. But being head of the department, this was just something he had to put up with.

"Honestly, it's great to see you all." I returned to the table with our glasses of juice. "And look, the kids are having fun outside." Ginny and I both glanced out the window and laughed.

"You know they're going to run him ragged!" She chuckled, watching Ron being bossed about by the kids. He was building a fort with them, and already they were arguing over it. Lily and Rose wanted to decorate it with pretty flowers and blossom petals they had collected from the lawn. But Hugo and Al were fighting back that it was a dragon cave and they didn't want soppy things in their cave.

"He thrives on it," I smiled, watching him deal with the argument and soon settle all the children down. "Actually, I could do with some adult, erm…girl talk too." I admitted, sipping my juice.

"Oh?" she asked, flicking her hair long red over her shoulder.

"Yeah. Just, I know he's your brother and you won't want to hear any of this, but you're my closest female friend and I need to talk to someone."

"Okay," she replied warily. "So long as you don't divulge any details about you know, it or well, what's in his trousers, I suppose I can over look the fact that you sleep with my brother."

"That's just the problem. I don't." I blurted out. Ginny looked at me in surprise.

"You mean, you two haven't, you know," she waggled her eyebrows.

I shook my head and sighed deeply. "I just don't know what to do. It's so frustrating. I tried talking to my Mum about it yesterday, but she just went on about how lucky I am to have him back and what a wonderful man he is. And I am, and he is. But, she seemed totally scandalised I'd be upset about him not wanting to jump into my bed."

Ginny laughed at that, almost choking on her juice. "Sorry," she spluttered and wiped her mouth. "So, there's been nothing, since he came back?"

"No," I deflated against my seat.

"Oh," she uttered.

"What can I do Ginny?" I almost wailed.

"Hmm. Well, you know, I'm no expert on charming my brother out of his…oh, eurgh, I'm not even finishing that sentence!" She shook her head.

"It's not just that though. I mean, I just miss holding him and kissing him. Being close to him. Sometimes I merely touch him and he blushes and flinches away. It's driving me insane! It's not so bad for me to want my husband, like that, is it?"

"No," she shook her head, actually looking sorry for me now. "It's very normal to want the man you love. I mean, sex isn't the be all and end all of a relationship, but…"

"It's a lot," I finished for her.

"Yes." She nodded in agreement. "Just sharing that closeness with someone, that trust and intimacy. I can understand you being frustrated." She sighed and I thought maybe she was imagining herself in my place and just how exasperating it would be. "So there's been nothing at all since he came home?"

I shrugged. "A few hugs here and there, mostly when he's been upset. And, he did stroke my hair yesterday and touch my face. It was really tender actually," I added when I saw the look of amusement on her face. "We were at my parents and he'd been staring at my old room. For just a moment I wondered, no hoped, he was remembering the fact that our first time happened there."

"Hold on. You lost your virginity in your old childhood bedroom?" She gaped.

"Oh, erm, yeah," I blushed and tied my hair back in the ponytail again. "That first Christmas after the war, when we were home from Hogwarts. Boxing day." I smiled to myself at the memory.

"Wow! Okay, no details." She held her hand up to stop me. "So, he didn't remember?" She assumed.

"No," I shook my head sadly. "Though, I think he's aware something…significant happened in there. Oh, and then there was that kiss."

"The kiss? During your first time, or…" she faded off, giving me a strange look of confusion.

"Since he came home you daft woman! He woke up one night having a nightmare, he was petrified. I went to comfort him and he clung to me and then, well, we kissed. I mean, really kissed. Things may have got a little heated, had he not suddenly backed off and ran away." I groaned at the memory of that – how unsatisfied I had been left feeling.

"Right. So if he kissed you like that, he must still want you on some level. Have you tried simply talking to him about it?"

"Gin', he blushes if I so much as kiss his cheek. Could you imagine his reaction if I told him I wished he would make love to me?"

"Yeah, right…okay. So, how about good old fashioned flirting with him? Seducing him or something? And I can't believe I am talking about my brother's sex life like this." She put her hand to her forehead and shook her head unbelievably.

"Just forget he's your brother for a little while. This is just two friends and girl talk. But to answer your question, we never get chance for any of that. He spends a lot of time with the kids or in his room or I'm in the office trying to catch up on paperwork."

"You need some time alone," she decided.

"And I just said we never get any of that." I rolled my eyes in disgust.

"Which is why you need to take him away somewhere."

"What?" I asked, surprised.

"You need somewhere neutral, some place not connected to the past. So, go away for a couple of nights, just you and him. Book a nice hotel room, make sure there's only the one bed and, just…bloody seduce him somehow. He's still a man at the end of the day, if he's alone with a woman throwing herself at him and offering sex, he's going to give in eventually. Or well, a certain part of his anatomy will." She laughed.

"I certainly hope he doesn't just give in to any woman!" I replied indignantly.

"You know what I mean." She poked her tongue out at me. "Besides, it worked for me and Harry." She then confessed.

"Sorry?" I raised one eyebrow in question.

"Oh yeah, before Lily was born. We were having a bit of a dry spell. He was stressed with work and getting home late all the time, and well…a few days away together did us the world of good. Mind you, might have been where we conceived Lily," she mused to herself.

"Well, I'm not looking to have any more kids right now! But, a couple of days away with him might be nice. Might cheer him up a bit as well."

"I reckon we all need a bit of adult time away, just to remember the, pardon the pun, the magic and fall in love with one another all over again."

"That's exactly what I need," I sighed in agreement. "To get him to fall in love with me again. Right, a few days away." I'd decided this was a good idea and already my mind was racing with places we might go. "Oh, but I'm going back to work on Tuesday." I realised, dishearteningly.

"So? You still have Friday afternoons and Mondays off, right? You can still have a long weekend, Friday, Saturday and Sunday?" She suggested.

I nodded to myself, the idea exciting me again. "Okay," I decided. "I'll go to my Mum's after work one night next week and use their computer to book something." I smiled at her.

"Good for you!" She thumped her fist in the air and then drank some more juice. "By the way, what did you mean it might cheer him up?" she asked, watching them out of the window for a few moments. "He certainly looks happy enough out there."

I followed her gaze, towards my husband who was giving piggy back rides to Lily and Rose alternatively whilst the boys chased them with makeshift wands from sticks and they were all hollering in glee.

"I know," I sighed. "He's fine around the kids and he's been a bit better the last few days. I think spending time with Charlie and Bill has helped. But, he's been down since I had to tell him about the war and everything that happened to us at school. He's taking Fred's death really hard."

"I suppose it's like he's only just living it," she sighed, gazing into her half empty glass absently. I knew the whole family missed Fred dreadfully and whilst time had done wonders to heal us all, there would always be sadness that he was no longer with us. "Well, when Harry gets back, I'll send him to see Ron. I know how I can cheer him up, and I do not mean the way you're going to try!" She laughed as I blushed. "But, I've managed to get some tickets for the Cannon's match next weekend. Harry was going to ask him if he wanted to go, think Neville and Seamus are going too. Thought it might be nice for him to see some old friends?"

"You might have to omit telling him they're going to be there as well. But, I'm sure a trip with Harry to a Quidditch match will cheer him up." I agreed,

"Is he being weird about meeting people again?" she asked.

I nodded with a weary look on my face.

"Well, I'll tell Harry to be sneaky about it then and not mention them going. They can just bump into them at the pub beforehand or something?" She grinned.

"That might work," I agreed.

"Phew, it's hot out there today," Ron had snuck up on us in the kitchen and was stood wiping his forehead on the back of his arm. "Any chance of those cold drinks you promised us? What you two been chatting about?" He eyed us both, fanning himself with his hand now.

"Nothing for your big nose!" His sister pulled a face at him.

"Just girl stuff," I smiled at him.

"Well, why don't you come join us outside? It's lovely out there." He nodded back outside to the garden. Rose and Lily were happily sprinkling the little den, made from old bed sheets, garden poles and most likely magic holding it all together, with flower petals. Whilst the boys were splashing in the shallow pool of water Ron had conjured for them.

"Did you put the sun repellent charm on the kids?" I asked him.

"Erm…forgot," he admitted sheepishly.

"Oh, Ron, they'll burn. You know their skin is even more sensitive than yours." I got up and grabbed my wand. "You should probably cast it on yourself too," I added whilst passing him on my way outside and noting the redness of his nose.

"Come on bro," Ginny linked arms with him. "Let's take this jug of ice cold pumpkin juice to them outside." I heard her instruct him as I headed off to sort our kids out.

* * *

The Quidditch match proved to be a success. Harry and Ron both came home in high spirits, despite the fact his team had lost. "But not by much!" Ron insisted. It seemed to have done him good to get out into the Wizarding world with a friend and I was glad.

Later Harry confided in me that he'd been rather apprehensive when they'd 'accidentally' ran into Neville and Seamus in the Leaky beforehand. Ron had wanted to avoid them at first and suggested going elsewhere. But, after a glass of fire whiskey and some chatting, they were all getting along just fine. The boys, after a previous word from Harry, had treated Ron just as they always had done.

There had been once incident at the game when a few wizards were staring at Ron and then whispering, causing Ron some alarm. Of course, no one knew he was actually alive. His death had been all over the Daily Prophet and various Wizard media when he'd disappeared. Witch Weekly had carried a memoriam on him for weeks. I never thought of his sudden reappearance into our world causing a stir. I was more concerned with his reappearance into _my_ world. But, Harry assured me he'd been fine after buying a new Cannon's hat and transfiguring his wallet into a pair of dark glasses as a disguise, he'd been left alone to enjoy the game, which apparently he had thoroughly enjoyed.

This little venture gave me hope that our weekend away would have similar success, especially as we'd be out in the Muggle world, away from the prying eyes of any witches or wizards. I felt like I was 15 years old again, counting down the days to the Yule Ball! And this time I was determined for us NOT to end the festivities with a row!

* * *

Reviews are always loved :) Until next week...and I suspect some of you are going to enjoy the next chapter :p


	18. Chapter 18

_Sorry, sorry...I know you've probably been waiting for this chapter after my teasing last week, but eurgh...it's been a bitch to edit! I've spent 3 nights going through it all, some scenes have been totally rewritten that I wasn't happy with and a little censoring went on, because...might have been too much for this site :p_

_Anyways, hope you like it, I'm finally happy with it. As you may have guessed, this chapter will include scenes of an adult nature and a fair bit of cursing!_

_Disclaimer: Characters belong to JK Rowling...I'm just allowed to play with them._

**Chapter ****Eighteen**

It was strange being back at work. Even though I had only been away less than two months and I had tried in the last few weeks to do some work from home, I felt rather lost with everything and didn't have the passion for it I once had. So much had changed within my own life, for the better, whereas nothing much seemed to have changed within my job. Along with the influx of work I was trying to deal with, I had to put up with questions as to where I had been the last few weeks from well meaning colleagues. I tended to just mumble something about a family emergency I'd had to deal with.

After the incident at the Quidditch match, we had decided to keep Ron's return home a secret from the Wizarding world, at least for now. He still needed that time to settle back in before the community started poking their nose in our business, making accusations and just making up crazy stuff. Our life was fragile enough as we picked up the pieces again, without the whole community staring at us.

Although I loved my job, usually finding it rewarding to help people and protect magical creatures, I had always looked forward to the end of the day and returning home to my children. Now, knowing that Ron was waiting at home too, I found myself itching for the day to end. Simply to see him again, to make sure he was real and not just some wishful thinking on my part.

I also hadn't taken into account how much returning to work would tire me out. With a lot to catch up on, I was working more hours than usual a week now and after being back just over a week, I felt exhausted when I stepped from the floo and collapsed onto the sofa. Today I had spent much of the day running back and forth from one department to another, chasing up paperwork I needed, signatures that were required and arranging interviews with victims of crimes against Muggle-borns. I knew I could have done some of it with internal memos, but I found a lot of those went astray – often into the nearest dustbin where the receiver would swear blind they never received anything! It was just simpler and looked more professional to deal with some people face to face anyway.

Tonight, I had wearily made my way home from work and mumbled hellos to my family. I listened patiently as Rose excitedly told me about her day, nodded my head in agreement at Ron's suggestion for dinner and tried to be enthusiastic when Hugo showed me his latest painting. Until finally I was able to stumble upstairs to take a shower, in the hope I might feel more human again.

A waft of steam followed me from the en-suite when I entered my bedroom, feeling now at least fresh and a little less frazzled after the hectic day. I made it as far as towelling myself dry and pulling on a clean pair of knickers, before temptation became too much and I crawled under the sheets, intending to spend half an hour in peace with my book.

I remember opening the book to the saved chapter and reading the first line, and then nothing until a knock at my bedroom door, followed by Ron softly calling my name. The door opened a crack then as he peered around it, calling my name again. I lifted my head from the book I had intended to read, but apparently used as a pillow instead, and blinked blearily at him.

"Are you okay? Do you not feel well?" He entered the room then, allowing the door to close behind him as he sat on the edge of the bed, feeling my forehead for a temperature.

"M'fine," I yawned and knuckled my eyes. "I just thought I'd lie down for a few minutes and read after my shower," I explained. "Must've fallen asleep," I snorted at myself.

"Well, you looked as though you'd had a rough day," he added graciously.

I nodded in the affirmative through another yawn, as I rubbed my eyes and ran my hand over my hair – it had been damp when I'd nodded off and I knew it must be a mass of knotted curls by now. "Did you need something?" I wondered then his reason for looking for me,

"Oh, yeah. The kids were hungry, so I've made a start on dinner. Thought I should let you know."

"Wow, what time is it?" I reached for the clock on my bedside table, groaning when I saw it was almost 7pm. "Damn," I hissed, realising I had nodded off for just over an hour. I'd wanted to get some work done and I'd wasted that time now. And then completely forgetting that I had climbed into bed wearing nothing but a pair of white knickers, I flung the covers back and my feet over the side of the bed.

Ron's eyes widened as he made a strange strangled noise in the back of his throat and sprang away from the bed suddenly. "Hermione!" he shrieked, waving his hand in my general direction with his eyes closed. "Erm, er…" he stumbled over his words, gazing at the ceiling and blushing profusely.

"What? Oh!" I gasped, when I realised and pulled the sheet back to hide my nakedness. "Sorry, I forgot," I muttered.

"Uh huh," he nodded, the back of his neck and ears still red, tilting his head slightly to see if I was covered up now. "Well, I'll just erm," he backed away towards the door, still embarrassed and yet, there was something else in his eyes. Had I really seen regret etched on his face that I had covered myself? A touch of desire at seeing my naked body perhaps? "I'll let you, erm...get dressed and..." he continued to back away, tripping over my shoes I had kicked off earlier. He stumbled, blushed further and grabbed the door handle, yanking it open.

"Sorry," I repeated before he closed it firmly behind him.

I lay back down after he was gone and flung my arm over my head, chuckling to myself over his reaction and embarrassment. But then I remembered that spark I thought I'd seen in his eyes, a spark that made me believe somewhere deep down he might still want me after all.

* * *

It had taken some persuasion to get Ron to agree to this weekend away. He wasn't exactly against it, but he was confused about it – asking why we didn't take the kids with us and all get away. I didn't think 'well, Ronald…they'd rather put a dampener on me trying to charm you out of your clothes,' would go down very well. Instead I just said that I thought he and I needed a little time alone, as a couple. He looked nervous by the very prospect of that. Did he just not want to be around me, or was it simply us being alone that made him anxious? I never could tell these days.

I used to be able to read him like an open book. Especially after we'd both confessed our feelings for one another and began this new, more intimate, chapter in our relationship. I had known when he was hungry by the way he'd pat his belly. His embarrassment or anger were evident for everyone to see in the reddening of his ears and neck. When worried, he'd chew on his bottom lip and had a tendency to pace. His love had once shone for me in his brilliant blue eyes and the way I'd often catch him just gazing at me doing totally boring things. And then there was that secret, special smirk he had given me when he wanted to make love, when he was feeling frisky and he'd whisk me off to the bedroom. Or sometimes the couch, or the bathroom, the garden or even the kitchen table – usually wherever was closest. Mind you, much of those activities were before our children had arrived.

After a guilt ridden farewell with the children at Molly and Arthur's on Friday afternoon, we left for our weekend. I felt bad about leaving them yet again, even if this was for the greater good – getting their Mum and Dad back on the same page. But, perhaps we would have to plan a family holiday soon – somewhere near the sea – Rose and Hugo would love that.

I entered our lavish hotel room first, Ron following behind gallantly carrying our luggage. He set the bags down and then gazed around the room, finally focusing on the bed. "Erm…there, there's only one bed," he remarked.

"Hmm?" I asked, not having heard him as I turned away from the view at the large French windows.

"There's just the one bed," he repeated, glaring at the piece of furniture as though it had done him a personal injustice.

"Oh. Yes. Well, it's a double room." I explained flippantly. I wasn't about to tell him that was intentional. Could hardly go about rekindling our marriage with separate beds, or heaven forbid, separate rooms.

"But where am I supposed to sleep?" he muttered sulkily as he shoved his hands into his pockets. This seemed to be a new habit of his when he was uncomfortable with something.

"It's a big bed," I shrugged.

His eyes widened at what I was insinuating and then he looked flustered as he looked away from it and considered other options. "I... I can just sleep on the floor, or something. There's loads of pillows, and…"

"Ron. Don't be silly. We can share a bed." I said finally. "We're married, we can sleep in the same bed for goodness sake!"

"But..." he yelped and his ears began to turn red.

"It's a big bed, we'll be fine." I cut him off. "Besides," I checked my watch, "there's hours before we'll need the bed, so how about we go for a walk? The view looks amazing out this window, and they have some walking trails here. Reminds me of being at Hogwarts a bit," I mused, rummaging in a bag to find a jacket. Up here in the Scottish highlands, it was just that little bit chillier. I'd chosen this area on purpose, to remind him of our time at school, the place where any romantic notions between us were first awakened.

Our walk down misty trails through the forest certainly worked up an appetite before we returned to the hotel's restaurant for dinner. It was nice to eat together again without the children falling out, telling Rose to set her book aside or having to encourage Hugo to stop chattering long enough to fill his mouth with some food. There were no knocked over glasses of juice, no mad dashes to the toilet and no protests of not wanting to eat certain foods that were apparently yucky today. Just a relaxed and comfortable atmosphere in a romantic setting over some delicious food.

After we'd eaten, I began to lead us back to our room, oblivious at first to Ron's discomfort about that. However, when he began to shuffle slowly behind me and pointed out that one of the hotels bars was still serving drinks and asking whether I wanted one, I began to realise he was up for anything to put off sharing that one bed. He paused by the bars doorway, scratching the back of his neck and rocking on his heals as he nodded his head towards the bar.

"Honestly, I just want to relax. Maybe take a bath and get an early night," I proposed. "It's been a long day."

"Yeah, I suppose." He shoved his hands into his pockets and began to sullenly follow me to the lifts.

"You can stay and have a drink if you want to?" I suggested.

"Nah, I'll just watch some TV or something," he mumbled, not being able to look at me or anything.

We arrived back in our room, I kicked off my shoes and headed for the bathroom, taking my bag with me. "I'm going to take a bath," I told him, allowing myself the luxury without kids knocking on the door, screaming or just waltzing in on me.

He merely nodded, picked up the remote for the TV and curled himself into a chair as he toed his own shoes off. I'd forgotten that he'd lived as a Muggle for a couple of years, so he was familiar with things like TV's now. I suddenly wondered whether he missed it. We didn't have one at home.

I emerged almost an hour later, ready for bed. Ron was slumped in the chair, eyes closed and the TV blaring out the Muggle news I had no interest, nor knowledge of these days. He startled awake when I reached across him for the remote to turn it off and then rubbed his eyes as I set it down and moved around the bed, pulling the cushions off and the sheets back.

"What's that?" He suddenly gasped.

"What?" I looked around the room for something wrong.

"That…that thing you're wearing." He pointed his finger at me.

"Oh," I looked down at myself and then held my arms out to allow him a better view. "It's a nightdress, Ronald." I rolled my eyes at him. Ginny had insisted on meeting me one afternoon after work this week and more or less forced me into buying the garment, saying I needed all the help I could get. Truth be told I felt a little ridiculous in it. The gown was a light blue satin, lacy at the hem and around the plunging sweetheart neckline with tiny string straps. The whole thing scarcely came to my mid-thigh area.

"Barely," I heard him mutter under his breath. "You're not wearing that, are you?" He swallowed anxiously, trying not to look.

"Why? Would you rather I take it off?" I teased, edging a strap down, feeling suddenly naughty.

"No!" he practically yelled at me as his eyes widened in distress and he began to flush.

I pulled it back up, turned my back on him and finished pulling the sheets back with more force than was necessary before crawling into bed. I grabbed my book then and wrapped the covers around me, settling back onto the pillows. "Good night Ronald," I huffed.

He mumbled something on his way to the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind him as I let out a long, frustrated sigh. I was asleep long before he came to bed.

I awoke in a softly lit, though unfamiliar room. The comfortable bed I was lying in seemed to be in the wrong position and the morning light filtering through the curtains was coming from the wrong side of the room. And there was something else that was different, something unusual, yet I felt completely safe, content even, and very warm. I frowned to myself, puzzling over this little mystery and then I heard a gentle snort behind me and I stiffened.

Ron.

It all rushed back to me – the hotel, the one double bed. I was in bed with Ron. Oh sweet Merlin, just that thought alone thrilled me. He was so close to me I could feel his body heat, so close I could feel his…Oh! I froze, my heart beginning to race as I realised what else I was feeling. He was spooned up behind me, his arm thrown casually across my middle, his palm resting on my ribcage, right under my breast. His warm breath on the back of my neck and, further down, a delicious hardness pressing against the top of my thighs.

His body moulded to fit mine perfectly, as though we had always been made for each other. We lay together like two pieces of a whole, a puzzle finally reunited after being ripped apart. I hardly dare breath, let alone move, reluctant to ruin this tender moment I was convinced he was totally unaware of.

He moaned and shifted slightly amongst the sheets, pulling my body tighter against his, causing that hardness to rub against me. My heart was pounding as an almost forgotten ache developed between my thighs, requesting something that had been missing for far too long. I never wanted this to end, never wanted him to let me go. I was relishing this far more than I should, just being wrapped in his arms, surrounded in his scent and warmth.

The physical act and subsequent conclusion of sex aside, this is what I had truly missed the most. An intimate closeness and tenderness that had once been so familiar within our married life. My body and mind were both rejoicing the return of the once effortless affection we had for one another.

He shifted again and I held my breath as he became rigid behind me, fingertips gently exploring their position. And then, quite abruptly, he snatched his hand away and whirled back from me so sharply it was a wonder he didn't fall out of bed.

"I…erm, sorry," he muttered hurriedly. "I didn't…I. Sorry," he continued to mumble, sitting up and scooting as far from me as possible against the headboard. A blush raged up the back of his neck. "I shouldn't…" he groaned then and shook his head, rubbing a palm over his forehead, not able to meet my eyes.

"Ron," I smiled at him, rolling in the bed to face him. "It's fine, honestly," I held a hand out to him across the bed, hoping he would take it and return to my side. "It was…nice," I shrugged one shoulder.

He lowered his hands and stared at me in silence, as though he hadn't the faintest clue how I could have possibly found that nice. His entire face was bright red in embarrassment now.

"We used to cuddle like that all the time," I pouted, when I realised he was just mortified about this and regretted it happening.

"I just, I shouldn't. I'm sorry," he rambled, standing from the bed and muttering something about the bathroom, slamming the door after him.

I flung myself back down on the bed and thumped the mattress beneath me, growling softly. Did he not have a clue how entirely infuriating this was? Didn't he get that I just wanted to be with him? That I needed him? What did I have to do – throw myself at him and tear all his clothes off before he got the message? Damn him!

He came out of the bathroom a bit later and sat in the chair, as though he was afraid of the bed – that it had some mystical power over him to make him do things he didn't want to. I was starting wish it had! "I am sorry about that," he nodded towards the bed. "I…erm. I didn't realise and I shouldn't," he muttered, cradling his chin in his hand, balancing an elbow on his thigh. Whilst I had gone to bed wearing this ridiculous scrap of material Ginny had convinced me to buy, Ron was completely covered up, wearing long red checked pyjama pants and a white T-shirt. I felt so stupid.

"Stop apologising. It's fine. More than fine," I repeated, sitting up in bed against the headboard and pulling the sheet up over myself to save him further embarrassment. "I…I liked it." I confessed.

He began to blush again. "But, we can't…"

"Why the hell not?" I was losing patience. "We're married Ron. We're both grown adults, we are not 17 year old kids living under our parents' roof any more!"

"Yeah, but…things. Things are different now." he shrugged.

"Fine, just forget it!" I snapped. "The moments ruined anyway. I'll go get dressed and we can find some breakfast or something," I untangled myself from the sheets and stormed off into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly behind me.

Once we were both ready, we left the room. I walked ahead of him, fuming to myself and feeling such a fool. This whole weekend was pointless. The entire notion of us being a couple again was entirely hopeless. It was obvious Ron didn't want me in that way at all any more. The thought almost brought tears to my eyes as we rode the elevator down to the hotel's lobby. Who was I kidding? I couldn't just seduce him into my bed and everything would be fine between us again. It was obvious he didn't find me attractive or sexy or anything like that any more. And that sudden realisation hurt more than him not remembering he loved me.

We barely spoke over breakfast and avoided eye contact. I tried asking him what he wanted to do today, he only shrugged and muttered that he wasn't bothered. The hotel had a pool, but, judging from his reaction to my night wear last night, Ron would probably have a heart attack if I changed into a swimsuit!

In the end, we hit another one of the trails and began walking, not really knowing where we were heading as I rambled on about the names of trees, pointed out varieties of thistles and wildlife we encountered. The scenery was beautiful at least, and it was warmer than it had been last night. A shame about the company that skulked along behind me. I didn't know if it was even possible for us to save our marriage now. Had the long separation and callous amnesia completely stolen all that from us?

"Ron," I began as we took a break, sitting down on a fallen tree log. We had reached a clearing, overlooking rolling hills covered in purple heather and white capped mountains visible in the distance – it was so peaceful here – making you feel like the last people on earth. He handed me a water bottle from the rucksack he carried. The hotel had provided us with a picnic lunch for our hike. "Thanks," I smiled taking it from him and having a drink. "Ron," I began again, screwing the lid back on, giving it more attention than needed. "Are you happy being here?" I wondered.

He shrugged and looked around himself. "Well, it's pretty." He gazed towards a mountain range in the distance. "I have some vague memories of views like this from school."

"I'm not talking about the view." I mumbled, fiddling with the water bottle and beginning to tear the label off. "I mean, being…with me. Are you happy with me? Is this what you want?"

"How do you mean?" he asked, looking up from tying the drawstring on the bag and squinted into the sun.

"Well," I paused, trying to work out what I was asking him. "Being at home, with me and the kids again. The whole family thing. Is that what you want?"

He shrugged. "I love being with the kids," he answered easily.

"How about me?" I asked, quietly. Almost afraid of his answer.

"You? You're my most important link to my past, to the man I was."

"That's all?" I asked, appalled. "I mean, in that case, so is Harry or Ginny. Your parents are probably your best link, they've known you longest. And…" I faded off, I was hurt. That's all I was to him? A link to discovering who he really is?

"I don't mean it like that," he insisted, becoming flustered over his choice of words. "I mean. I don't know what I mean," he shook his head sorrowfully. "You're very important to me. More so than any of them I mean. And, I do love being with you all. I love having a family. It's just…it…"

"Ron, you do know how I feel about you, don't you?"

He shrugged.

"I love you. Sometimes I feel as though I have loved you my entire life. And, I know this isn't easy right now, but I'm not prepared to let you go."

He sat quietly for a few minutes, absorbing what I had said, before asking. "How about you Hermione? Are you happy?" He turned the question around on me.

"You are kidding, right?" I almost laughed.

Again, he shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes, you seem annoyed with me being here. And sometimes I don't know how to be around you." he confessed.

"Ron,"I sighed, reaching out towards him and then thinking better of it and pulling my hand back. "I could never be annoyed with_ you_. I thought I had lost you forever, the only man I have ever loved. I thought our life was over. How on earth could I be annoyed that I get you back, safe and sound?"

He gave me a sideways glance. "Still, something is annoying you." he insisted.

I took a deep breath before I answered him, rolling the water bottle between my hands. "I wouldn't say annoyed. Frustrated is a better word. I'm frustrated with this whole situation we're in. Frustrated that things aren't the same between us any more – that your memories of me, of us, seem to be gone. And I'm frustrated with myself for ever thinking we could just pick right up where we left off."

"I'm trying you know," he mumbled quietly.

"Oh, I know you are, love." My hand reached over and squeezed his knee before I could second think it. "And you're doing great. Already you've slipped back into being an amazing father to our children. A sibling to Ginny and your brothers and a wonderful friend. It's just," I chewed on my bottom lip a moment. "I want more," I whispered. "I want my husband back."

He looked up, blue eyes full of confusion. "I thought I was your husband," he frowned.

"Legally, yes. But...not so much in other ways." I could see he still didn't understand as I inhaled deeply and sat up straighter, turning my body to face his. "You and I are passionate people Ron, we always have been – whether it's our temper or our stubbornness. Our fierce loyalty or in the way we love. Once we became a couple, we were very affectionate with one another, especially in private. Kissing, hugging, making love," I whispered and then smiled to myself. "We were always holding hands..."

"I bet that got a bit tricky," he smirked at me.

I stared at him, baffled.

"If we were always holding hands. How did we get anything else done?" he grinned, impishly.

I grinned too and nudged him with my elbow playfully. "Haha!" I chuckled lightly. "But. You see...I miss that. I miss it so much, just being affectionate with you. And I know it's not your fault, I know it's a bit weird for you or something. Like how embarrassed you got this morning in bed – I loved that because I crave your touch so much. I'm sorry I didn't try to understand your feelings about it and got upset with you."

Ron looked down at the floor, plucked a few blades of grass and tossed them into the wind. "I just…I don't know how," he shrugged. "I know you're my wife and that we have history together, that we had a good relationship. Even now I can sense the connection we have. But I _can't _remember us being that way yet. It just feels a bit weird, like I'm taking advantage or something."

I shook my head. "Idiot," I muttered. "I'm never going to be upset with you for holding me or showing affection. It's what I want, what I need from you. Because, I love you Ronald Bilius Weasley. I love you _so_ much, it's never lessened in all the years I've known you. And, I just keep hoping that somewhere in that head of yours you're going to remember that you love me too."

"I'm working on it," he promised. "I mean, I remember those feelings from when we were kids and I was first noticing you, as more than a friend I mean. And I know we got married and had kids, so there's got to be something bloody strong between us. I can sense the connection we have and I do care for you, a lot. And I mean as more than a friend." He smiled up at me.

"Then, I guess that will have to do, for now." I returned his grin as he reached out and held my hand, squeezing it in his.

"I will bloody remember you somehow," he vowed. "I reckon I'd have to be bloody crazy to let someone as amazing as you slip through my fingers."

And with that, we got up with smiles on our faces and continued our walk, walking side by side now and no longer in silence. The air had been cleared and hopefully he understood a bit more about how I felt and what I longed for.

* * *

We enjoyed a delicious three course meal that night in the hotel, complete with a glass of wine each. By the time we'd licked the last of the chocolate cheesecake from our spoons, we decided to join other patrons in the bar for a night cap. I had no intention of rushing us back to our room for more awkwardness between us.

Except, since our chat this lunchtime, things had been easier between us, almost a comfortable companionship – so long as neither of us brought up ideas of being intimate. Eventually, after I'd yawned a couple of times, Ron suggested maybe we should think about going to bed – the long walk had tired us both. So, we headed for our room with satisfied appetites and a relaxed atmosphere from the couple of drinks we'd indulged in. Neither one of us was close to being what I'd consider drunk – it would take much more than a glass of wine and a shot of liquor. But perhaps we were just a little more liberated than had been of late.

Ron closed the door behind us, fiddling with the lock and groping for the light switch whilst I began unbuttoning my cardigan, turning to ask if he minded if I used the bathroom first, when I caught him staring at me. "What's wrong?" I asked, running my hands through my hair – had it become that dishevelled?

He smiled then and shrugged one shoulder. "Just, thank you for tonight...for this weekend."

I returned his smile. This weekend might not have gone the way I'd hoped, but I thought we'd at least made some progress. "Yes, it's been nice," I agreed, fumbling with my buttons again. And then he completely took me by surprise when he leant in and planted a soft kiss on my cheek.

I gasped in surprise as my head jerked up to look at him, my hand smoothing the spot he'd kissed on my cheek in stunned silence. He was still right beside me, a shy look on his face as he gave me a brief little, playful smile before his eyes flashed upwards and met mine. There was a heat there I hadn't seen in so long. An intense gaze that warmed my soul.

I felt my breathing hitch again as quite abruptly the atmosphere inside the room change – something seemed to crackle between us with a spark and in less than a second we'd crashed against one another, kissing fiercely.

My body rejoiced in glee as he stooped lower, myself on tiptoes, to return the kiss with as much enthusiasm. One of his hands cupped my cheek, the other slid around my shoulder, became tangled in my hair and pulled me flush against him. My own arms curled around his neck as the kiss became softer, but still full of passion, longing and lust. Appreciative moans tumbled from our lips and hands frantically grasped one another. My body was humming, my mind exploding as all the pent up longing was finally exposed by the both of us.

Slowly, he began moving me backwards, further into the room. I kicked my shoes off and struggled to free my arms from the cardigan, allowing it to drop to the floor behind me as we tripped and stumbled towards the bed, until the back of my knees hit the mattress and I fell backwards on it. I landed with a little grunt of surprise before looking up at him leaning over me. Before he could hesitate, before he could change his mind, I grasped the belt of his trousers and yanked him towards me, causing him to fall onto the bed beside me.

There we resumed the kissing, the holding and slowly, adventurous hands began searching one another. When his hand grazed the side of my breast, I hissed and my body jolted from the mere touch. At first he'd snatched his hand back shyly, he was completely allowing me to instigate this, to set the tone. But somehow I knew he was willing to go as far as I led him, he'd follow me anywhere I wished to take this.

So, when I pulled him to me again, reclaimed his lips in further kisses and ran a hand down his back, giving his backside a gentle squeeze through his trousers, he gave an appreciative soft moan and allowed his hand to run back up my body. Hesitantly, nervously, he gently cupped my breast in his palm, watching me to make sure this was okay, that I didn't mind. I smiled at him and placed my hand over his before my lips found his neck as a million different emotions swept over me – love, lust, joy, a tiny fleeting moment of anxiety over the fact we were actually doing this, but the most prevalent was a feeling of contentment. Finally I was getting what I'd been needing, finally Ron was showing me the kind of attention and intimacy I'd been craving from him.

His hand didn't move, but I could feel the heat of his palm cupping me through my dress, that alone was enough to cause my nipple to harden, for my breathing to hitch up a notch and my heart to race. But as I began to squirm and struggle out from beneath him, he frowned, an expression full of confusion and quite possibly disappointment. At least until I sat back on my heals on the bed, grasped the hem of the dress I was wearing and pulled it over my head, tossing it behind me carelessly, leaving me sat before him in just my bra and knickers.

Then, his eyes widened, gazing up and down my body. The tips of his ear turned pink and his tongue flicked out to moisten his lips. I crushed my body against his again, holding his head as I kissed him, breaking out in tiny goose bumps when his warm hands brushed over my revealed skin. Suddenly I needed to feel his warm skin on mine, for our bodies to touch and I began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

The action set off a flurry of removing clothes, until we finished up under the sheets together, both now only wearing our underwear. His attraction and his desire towards me was impossible to deny now – all was evident in the tenting of his boxer shorts. I realised I was a fool to ever think otherwise and yet my heart burst with pride and love for him.

For awhile, even under the covers, we simply kissed and held each other, my now bare breasts pressed deliciously against his chest and a tentative hand occasionally sweeping softly down warm skin as we sighed together, content in our little cocoon beneath the sheets, a place where the outside world, where all our problems and issues no longer existed. As beautiful as the moment was – and it truly was – my body began to yearn for more, I needed his touch, I needed that one act of intimacy I had never shared with anyone but this incredible man in my arms.

"Ron," I whispered, as his lips caressed my neck. I ran my fingers through his soft ginger hair and on down to his pale, freckled shoulders. "Ron…touch me," I whispered again. He lifted his head slightly, his cheeks flushed with passion and perhaps a hint of embarrassment at my request. "Please, I need you." I kissed his lips and gently took his hand, pulling it down towards the junction of my thighs.

Pulling my hand back, I accidentally brushed against his crotch. Ron bit his bottom lip, closed his eyes and moaned gently. Though, that seemed to give him confidence as his fingers ran over my knickers, I think stars burst before my eyes when I felt him touch me beneath the fabric. My own hand purposely reached for him this time and ran over the impressive bulge in his shorts, before delving within and grasping him in my hand as he emitted a soft groan.

There followed an urgency to kick off underwear, just as eager and desperate for each another. Ron rolled between my legs and then paused, bearing his weight on his arms as he hovered over my hips. He gazed into my eyes, searching for something, permission perhaps, approval?

"I love you," I murmured and grasped the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss him once more. That seemed to be all he'd needed and reaching one hand down to position himself, pushed forwards and our bodies were joined in the most primal way. He paused again, sensations that had been achingly missed washing over both of us and then, taking hold of my hands and holding them above my head, he moved his hips and we both moaned in pleasure.

Our bodies soon fell into a familiar and blissful rhythm. His head might be having problems really remembering me, our relationship and the love we shared, but it seemed his body wasn't suffering any of those effects. We worked well together, falling into a familiarity only those with a bond could share. Movements were met with moans and sighs of approval as occasional tender kisses tumbled from our lips.

I curled my legs up and over his hips with the increased intensity, his thrusts delving deeper, breathing and heart rates picking up. His forehead rested against mine, his fingers locked between my fingers, opening and clasping upon the movements of our hips. Until, with one deep long groan from him and a strangled whimper from me, we exploded together.

"I love you," I told him again when I was able to speak, stroking my hand down his cheek and brushing damp locks from his forehead.

"Love you too," I thought I heard him murmur as he rolled off and beside me. I wasn't sure I had heard correctly, I could have been imagining things. And to be perfectly honest, I was in such a state of bliss, I didn't care right now. My body still thrummed from our passion, tingles and after shocks coursing through me as our heart rate and breathing gradually calmed down.

Ron gathered me into his arms and I lay my head on his chest as he kissed the top of my head. And then, with a content sigh, he snuggled into the mattress, grasped hold of my hand that rested on his belly, and we were soon asleep.

Dawn had just broken when I stirred again, the sky hazy and tinged in grey that cast the room in shadows. I was still wrapped in Ron's arms and the feel of his bare chest beneath my cheek. I grinned to myself, thrilled it hadn't just been yet another erotic dream. We'd made love, Ron and I were sleeping together in the same bed again – finally. I felt giddy and naughty all at the same time. I ran my hand up his chest, over a nipple and heard him suck in his breath above me. Looking up, I realised he was awake too.

"Hey," I smiled at him.

"Hey," he mumbled sleepily, his throat scratchy. I'd even missed the sound of his morning voice.

"We're naked," I added with a little giggle.

"Uh huh," he agreed and chewed on his bottom lip as his cheeks blushed pink.

"Hey, don't you dare." I kissed his cheek and made him look at me, lifting my head from his chest.

"What?" he frowned.

"Don't you go looking all embarrassed and guilty or anything, not now. Do _not_ spoil my good mood!" I warned him with a poke to the ribs.

He squirmed away from my finger with a grimace. "Yeah, but…we, I mean," he sighed, pausing to choose his words. "I took advantage of you!" he finally erupted.

I laughed, burying my head in his chest again, my mass of brown hair splayed all over him. "Right," I nodded, finally looking up again, still finding him amusing. "That's why I feel so damn good right now, so...utterly blissful." I shook my head and then placed my lips against his collar bone. His hand placed lightly on my back contracted against me. "Last night Ron, it was meant to happen. I'm thrilled it happened. Though, it is rather humiliating that I have to ply my husband with a bit of alcohol before he wants to make love to his wife and find me attractive."

"That's not true! I've always found you attractive!" he replied indignantly.

"You have?" I asked timidly, finding a loose thread on the sheets to toy with.

"Yeah," he answered incredulously, finding my doubting him ridiculous. "From the first moment I saw you, I mean, in the pub that night when you were talking to Max. I thought you were the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. I asked Max dozens of questions about you that night, though I kind of assumed you were with Harry," he admitted. "And," he gave a wry little grin, "I had an interesting dream that night. You know, one of _those_ dreams," he blushed fiercely at his confession.

I laughed at him again. "Good to know," I nodded smugly. "So, why didn't you do anything? I mean, even when you found out I was your wife and it was perfectly fine for you to feel that way about me?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It just somehow didn't feel like I was allowed or that I should. I can't really explain it, but then you know my head is kind of screwed up right now. That's why I'd get all flustered whenever you touched me and stuff, I thought you'd figure out how much I fancied you."

I grinned at those words, never had I been more happy to hear them.

"And in some ways it was like I barely knew you. Even though in other ways I felt like I had known you my entire life, which I suppose is almost true." He looked at me with a shy smile. "So, it just," he sighed, knowing he was repeating himself and possibly not making much sense as he ran his hand over his face. "Well, it didn't feel right, not then anyway."

"And now?" I asked him, a foot running up his calf. "How does it feel now? Does this feel right?" My hand had strayed under the sheets, running over his hip and found his morning erection.

"Mmm," he grunted in reply, his eyes rolling back as I began to slide my hand along his length. "That, that feels good," he whispered hoarsely. "Merlin Hermione!" His hips jolted as I moved my hand again.

"Does this feel all right for us to do now?" I increased the pressure a little and moved faster.

"Uh uh." He nodded, his head arched on the pillow and his eyes closed.

"And this?" I added, having crawled under the sheets and took him completely by surprise as I replaced my fingers with my lips.

"Sweet, fucking Merlin!" he whispered, his hips jolted towards me. "So good..." he moaned.

I played with him a little longer, teasing him and enjoying his body writhing in pleasure as his hand rested upon my head. The murmurs and curses coming from his barely parted lips were strangely exciting – Merlin I had missed that too! "And then, how about this?" I asked, hoarsely.

Ron opened his eyes, widening in surprise to find I had flung the sheets back and was throwing my leg over his hips, straddling his body.

"Will this feel right?" I asked, never taking my eyes off him as I grasped and positioned him before joining our bodies again.

"Bloody fuckerin' hell Hermione," he hissed, grasping hold of my hips. "You're amazing," he added when I lowered my head to kiss him. "Bloody amazing," he added, grasping hold of my face and deepening the kiss as our hips began to move together.

We made love again. Last night had been rather heated – fast and urgent, rushing towards that ultimate goal of climax. Now, we could take our time to explore one another's body's a little more. To share deeper, passionate kisses and just enjoy the revelation of being with one another again, making sweet, tender love. Positions changed a couple of times before we reached completion and after it was over, we cuddled and dozed again in the early morning.

"Ron," I murmured quietly some time later. Sunlight was pouring in through the curtains now, but neither of us had left the bed for more than a moment to visit the bathroom or brush our teeth. "Was there, I mean," I paused, tracing circles on his chest with the tip of my finger. "When we were apart…was there anyone else?" I asked hesitantly. He raised his eyebrows at that question. "I mean, I would understand if there was, you didn't know about me and…it was a long time, maybe you..."

He cut my off, placing a finger over my lips. "No," he replied. "Well…not really," he added vaguely.

"Not really?" I questioned, unsure whether I really wanted an answer. Though I'd told him I would understand, I knew I'd still be jealous and somewhat hurt he'd been with someone else. For our entire lives we'd only really been with one another – 16 year old sloppy snogging with others aside that is.

He sighed and rolled to his back, I propped myself up on my elbow so as I looked down on him. "For the first few months I barely left my bed, let alone the house. It took Mildred awhile to patch me up. I was drifting in and out of consciousness for weeks she said."

I took his hand and kissed the back of it, I hated hearing about how injured he'd been, once again eternally grateful towards Max and Mildred for taking such good care of him for me.

"Once I was up and about, I spent all my time around the farm or sometimes in the village. But, then, probably about three months before you found me, the girl in the corner shop had taken rather a shine to me. She had a bit of crush," he confessed, a light shade of pink flushing his skin. "Max thought I needed to get out more and fixed me up on a date with her. Honestly," he rolled his eyes, "it was a bloody nightmare!" He laughed at the memory.

"What happened?" I wondered curiously, my heart easier now I knew it had come to nothing.

"We went to the pub, not much else to do in the village as you remember. And she spent the whole night chatting to me about some band she loved whom I had never heard of and personally thought sounded weird. Or going on about getting out of this village and becoming a model. I spent the whole night nodding along and smiling politely, pretending I understood, whilst trying to think of ways to leave. Eventually I told her I had to get back as I had to be up early for milking in the morning, even though it was Max's turn."

"Oh dear," I smiled, imagining him going through that. Bored rigid by her and yet not mean enough to hurt her feelings, so he'd put up with it. Although, I was secretly glad it had turned out so bad. It would have been heartbreaking to finally find him alive, only to discover he was in love with someone else.

"How about you?" he suddenly asked me, pushing my hair back behind my ear so he could see my face. "Was there anyone else for you?"

I laughed, even though it wasn't funny at all. "You are kidding right? Ron, it took me everything I had left to simply get out of bed each morning and take care of our kids and pretend I was functioning. I had no energy nor any inclination for dating anyone or even looking at other men. There was only one man I loved, would always love, but he was gone. There would never be anyone else for me." I bit my bottom lip. Even though that anguish was behind me now, the memories of those days still hurt.

A smile grew on Ron's face as he pulled me down and kissed me. "Good to know," he murmured tenderly against my lips and then kissed me again. The kisses started off gentle, but gradually increased in passion, until we were rolling around the bed once again, exploring bodies, rediscovering intimate places and ways to bring one another to climax.

"What was that?" Ron's head shot up from my shoulder, a repeated knocking waking us from another nap.

"I think someone's at the door," I turned my head, following Ron's gaze towards the locked door of our room.

"Who?" he asked me with a frown.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm a lot of things Ron, but I'm not physic! Oh!" I suddenly gasped. "What time is it?" I reached over him, ignoring his grunt of protest and grabbed the clock from the bedside table. "Damn," I hissed, "it's 10.35."

"And?" he raised one eyebrow, not understanding why the time was significant.

"We're supposed to check out of this room by 11am, that's probably house keeping at the door wanting to clean the room."

"You're kidding?" he asked sitting up and pulling the sheet over himself, as though he expected someone to walk right in and catch him naked.

"Unfortunately no. Most hotels kick you out about noon." I'd flung the sheets back and was rummaging around for our clothes and trying to pack things up at the same time, forgetting in my panic that I was a witch and there were much simpler ways of achieving that.

"But, I don't want to leave yet." he pouted from the bed. "I mean, we're having a good time, right?" He winked at me.

"Oh, we are," I paused and turned to smile at him. "These last few hours with you have been incredible. But…" I faded off, an idea coming to me. I didn't want to leave any more than he did. If only for the reason I was afraid if we left this room, all the progress we'd made would be lost and we'd return to our friendly, but distant relationship with one another. I didn't want to lose what we had now, the closeness we'd managed to rekindle.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked, tucking the sheet in around him and glaring at the door as someone knocked again.

"No." I admitted too. "Hang on." I grabbed a robe, pulled it around my body and opened the door a crack. "Hi, sorry…we're probably not going to be checking out today after all." I told the maid, stood impatiently outside with a pile of clean towels. "Thank you," I added before closing the door on her bemused face.

"What we gonna do? Barricade ourselves inside?" Ron laughed, finding the idea both exciting and hilarious.

"No. You're going to write a note to your Mum, asking if she'd mind having the kids another night." I shoved a notepad at him from the hotel stationary.

"This is my mum we're talking about. One thing I remember about her, she thrives on having a house full of kids," he scoffed, using his wand to summon a pen.

"Whilst I call down to reception and see if we can have the room for one more night." I decided, sitting back on the bed and grabbing the phone.

Five minutes later and it was all settled. I managed to get another night added to our stay for this very room, luckily they had vacancy in their bookings. And whilst I was at it, I ordered us some room service, we'd both certainly worked up an appetite. We were too late for breakfast, but I managed to order us a couple of toasted sandwiches.

"All set?" Ron asked me, turning from the window where he'd just sent his note off with an owl. Owls in the Wizarding World were very clever creatures, somehow they always seemed to know when a witch or wizard needed to send a letter. "Mum will be fine, and we'll see the kids tomorrow afternoon," he added, taking a seat beside me on the bed.

"We're all set, we're booked in for another night." I smiled as he took me in his arms. I wasn't quite used to this yet, being close to him again. It all seemed new and incredibly exciting.

"So, we have a whole 24 more hours to kill. However will we spend our time?" Ron quipped, looking down at me where I was curled against his chest and gave me a wink.

"Oh, I wonder…" I replied with a shy giggle.

* * *

Reviews make me happy. Until next week...


	19. Chapter 19

_Sorry, sorry...I meant to post this earlier, but then got baking a cake instead :/ Anyways - here you go - the next chapter. _

_Thank you for all the incredibly generous reviews last time - they really made me smile and I love that you love my writing. So, thank you!_

_Disclaimer: I'm just a fan in love with this magical world._

**Chapte****r Nineteen**

Before we returned home the following afternoon, Ron had asked if I would mind calling in to see Max and Mildred Bridges. I think he felt a little guilty that he hadn't been back to see them yet, though he had written them a couple of letters.. And with how much I owed them, I couldn't deny the visit. So, I soon found myself sat in the kitchen with Mildred and a cup of tea, whilst Max had dragged Ron out to the barn to see the young calf his favourite cow had delivered two weeks ago.

"Honestly, I've never seen Roland, I mean Ron, so happy," she commented, watching the men out the window as they cross the yard. "Things are going well then?"

I smiled. "They are now," I nodded. "It's been a bit…up and down, you know. He's remembered a lot more, but there's still huge chunks he's missing and that still frustrates him. It was difficult for him meeting his family again, and there were some unpleasant things I had to remind him of that he had a hard time dealing with."

"Oh?" she questioned, setting a jug of cream on the table and sitting opposite me.

"One of his brothers, Fred, he was killed during the battle at Hogwarts." She looked appalled. "I had to tell him about it, and he had to grieve all over again for his lost brother."

"Poor love," she shook her head slowly. "It's got to all be very strange for him. Not easy is it? For either of you?"

I shook my head. "We're getting there and...things seem to be settling down for him. For both of us." I smiled, thinking on the last couple of days.

"So, how are the children?" she brightened.

"Hugo took to him straight away, Rose was a little...hesitant. I think she was confused, bless her. And perhaps angry with him for what she perceived as him leaving her."

"Well, they're only young," she shrugged. "Can't be easy for them to understand."

"Anyway, they both adore having their daddy back home now," I grinned. "And Ron loves being with them. He's such a good dad, spoils them a little too much perhaps, but…I love seeing them together."

"And, the two of you?" she enquired with a conspiratorial smile.

"Like I said, we're getting there, slowly." I smiled, feeling myself blush after the weekend we'd just had. We'd hardly left our hotel room for the last 24 hours. It was like being newlyweds again, or randy teenagers with new found freedom. "I mean, he still doesn't remember everything, especially about us or the relationship we had before. But, I think we're building a new one and if it means I have him back in my life, that's fine." I smiled, stirring my tea.

"That's good," she patted my hand. "Like I said, he looks so happy and in love." She glanced out the window to spot them approaching the kitchen. Mildred poured the men a cup of tea when they joined us at the table. "So, how are those lovely children of yours?" She asked Ron.

His face lit up. "Amazing," he grinned. "They're funny and beautiful and smart and...such a credit to their Mother." He looked at me, pride evident in his smile.

"I didn't create them all by myself Ron," I rolled my eyes.

"No, but...you have had to raise them yourself the last couple of years...and..."

"I had a lot of help. They're all you as well." I protested – both children had some of the best and unfortunately, some of the worst, qualities from the pair of us.

"So, when can we meet the little darlings?" She asked, before we could disagree about this any further.

"Oh, erm. Well, whenever you want." He looked to me.

"Yes," I nodded. "You must come for tea, and I'd love to bring the children to see the animals. Mind you, Hugo will be disappointed you don't have any dragons," I laughed. "Are you connected to the floo network?" I wondered. Travelling with the children outside of the floo network was tricky. They were too young to apparate, and Hugo hated the Knight bus – it usually made him sick. It was bad enough going to see my Mum – often she would pick us up or we'd take the train into Muggle London and get a taxi to their house. I had been considering getting a small car at some point.

"No," Max replied, helping himself to one of the cream cakes on the table. "We have talked about it though, returning to the Wizarding world a bit more that is. We could get the floo set up?" he asked his wife.

"Well, until you do, how about you come to us for tea next weekend? And then when you get connected, we'll bring the children for a visit?" I suggested.

"That sounds lovely." Mildred smiled over at Max who nodded in agreement.

We stayed and chatted for a little while longer, catching each other up on news. Ron telling them how things were going for him and me once again thanking them for taking such good care of him after his accident. And before we headed home, we called in at a Muggle town to buy some gifts for the children.

* * *

Once home later that night, with the kids finally in bed and appeased for deserting them for three nights with a couple of small gifts and their favourite food for tea, Ron and I were making our way upstairs to bed.

"Where are you going?" I asked him, as he walked past the door to our room and grabbed the handle of the spare room.

"Bed," he frowned at me, as though I had just asked the most ridiculous question.

"Oh. But…" I stammered. "Well, I suppose I just thought, after this weekend, that you'd, you know, want to sleep in our room again?" I asked, suddenly coming over shy.

"You mean, with you?"

"No, I mean with the bloody owl," I rolled my eyes at him. "Of course I meant with me. Who else do you think sleeps in here?"

"Well, are you sure?" He was still hovering by the door of the spare room as I stood in the open doorway of our room.

I folded my arms and raised one eyebrow, tilting my head to the side as I just gave him an exasperated look.

"Well, I didn't want to assume," he defended himself, throwing his hands in the air.

"I thought after this weekend it was obvious," I rolled my eyes again and headed into our room. To my relief, Ron followed me and closed the door after him.

"Yeah, but," he sighed, just standing there and watching as I began to get ready for bed. Pulling extra cushions off, pulling the sheets down and then finding my nightdress from the chest of drawers.

"But what?" I asked, puling my hair from the braid it had been in all day and running my fingers through it.

"I didn't know if that was just a, you know, a weekend away thing." He was blushing.

"Yes Ron. I can only sleep with you when we're in a hotel room. Heaven forbid we sleep together in the bed we bought together, the sheets we chose together." I shook my head in disbelief and grabbed my nightdress from where I had left it on the bed.

"Oh," he was still standing there awkwardly.

"Do you need an official invite?" I wondered, leaning against the doorway of the en-suite bathroom

"No, but…urgh," he groaned at himself as he scratched his head. "What about the kids?"

"What abut them? As Rose pointed out some weeks ago, most other mummy's and daddy's usually sleep together, and theirs used to as well, this won't be a shock to them. Besides, I want you with me Ron. It's been too long and after this weekend I don't think I can stand to wake up alone again."

Ron smiled and nodded. "I'll, erm...go grab my things then." His smile grew as he ran back to the spare room.

Finally, half an hour later, we crawled under the sheets together and Ron took me in his arms. Lightly kissing my forehead as I snuggled into him.

"You know," he almost whispered in the darkness. "I'm still not sure I remember our relationship from before. I mean, I know we were in love and everything, but important moments, I still don't remember. And I can't remember exactly how I felt about you before. But, I reckon I'm falling in love with you all over again."

A smile grew on my lips as a lone tear rolled down my cheek. "I couldn't dare ask for more," I sniffed. "I have my husband back, and he loves me. I'm a lucky woman." I hugged him tight, my head resting upon his chest.

"I reckon I'm pretty damn lucky," He lifted my chin to meet his lips in a soft, gentle kiss. We smiled at one another, kissed once more and then settled down under the sheets, wrapped in one another's arms. "Night love," he whispered.

"Night sweetheart," I returned, and holding him close I was lulled to sleep by the most reassuring sound of his heartbeat thrumming steadily against my ear.

* * *

The next morning arrived with an unwelcome return to reality which was also a working day for me. I'd hoped the honeymoon period we seemed to have conjured could last a little longer, but alas, responsibilities called. The morning also came with a startling revelation for young Rosie.

"Mummy." She stormed into my bedroom rather early, crashing the door open. "Hugo pulled my hair!" she told me, indignantly. "And he said I was dragon p….DADDY'S IN YOUR BED!" She almost shouted when she suddenly noticed him, as though I had no idea and pointed to the sleeping form of Ron beside me.

"Uh huh," I muttered sleepily, rubbing a hand over my face. "I thought you said that daddy's are supposed to sleep with mummy's?" I frowned. I though she'd be happy about this, glad that things at home were becoming normal again.

"Not _my_ daddy!" she scoffed. "Daddy sleeps in _his_ room and that's _my_ spot! What if I have a bad dream?" she asked, accusingly, "and I have to come in your bed. Or when we have snuggles or…"

"There's still room in the middle sweetheart. We can have family snuggles." I suggested.

"But…" Her bottom lip began to wobble as she pondered this new possibility.

"Is that your brother?" I suddenly heard a small cry. "Is he crying?" She just shrugged, totally not concerned about him. "What did you do to him?"

"He pulled my hair!" She repeated, exasperated.

"And…" I waited, knowing that wasn't the end of it.

"And he said I was stinky dragon poo!"

"And what did you do to him?" Because I knew she would have fought back.

"Pushed him off my bed," she mumbled, dropping her head in shame.

"Oh, Rosie," I sighed as I got out of bed, grabbing my robe and going to see to her brother. He was sat on the floor in her room with his back to the door. It seemed he had got over his trauma as he was happily getting his own back, gleefully yanking the hair out of one of her favourite dolls.

"Hugo!" I snapped at him.

He dropped the doll instantly, trying to hide the evidence from me.

"Too late young man, I saw what you were doing."

"Rose hurt me mummy," he pouted then and held out his arm. His elbow had a small red mark on it, but was otherwise perfectly unscathed.

"That doesn't give you permission to vandalise her property." I took the doll from him, hoping I'd be able to fix it with a simple spell later.

"What vandise mean?" he queried.

I smiled at his pronunciation of the word and brushed his curls back from his forehead. "Vandalise. It means to break or ruin something that's not yours. And I heard that you pulled Rose's hair and called her names. That's not nice either, is it?"

"No," he sulked and lowered his head. "Sowwy mummy. My arm hurted." He held it to himself now as though it was broken when a second ago he'd been using it perfectly fine.

"Come here young man," I scooped him up and sat down on Rose's bed to indulge him in a study of his arm. "I think it's okay, it wont fall off anyway." I made him laugh and then kissed his elbow better. "All right now?" I asked him.

He nodded and smiled up at me.

"Come on then," I picked him up, to carry him through to our room. "You are your sister can apologise to each other and then we can all have a little snuggle before Mummy has to go to work.."

Rose was already in our bed when I got back, cuddled up to her dad who was also awake now. Hugo crawled in eagerly when I set him down, giggling at the fact we were all in bed together when I budged everyone up to make room for myself. And, after convincing our children to apologise to each other, we had a few minutes of content family time. At least until Hugo began bounding around the bed, insisting he was a hungry dragon that was going to eat us all if we didn't get his breakfast soon!

* * *

"Come in," I called, acknowledging the knock on my office door. I was just getting ready to head home, sorting out a few files on my desk and re-stacking some books on the shelf. Tuesday was still my half day, but as usual I was a little late in leaving. "Ginny," I smiled upon seeing my sister-in-law and closest female friend enter. "What brings you here?"

"The Prophet called a staff meeting," she sighed, tossing her hair back over her shoulder and perching on the end of my desk. "And, since I was in the building, I managed to drag that husband of mine out for lunch," she added.

"Well done!" I smiled. "That's often an impossible task."

"Don't I know it," she sighed.

"I do try and get him to eat lunch at least once a week with me. But it takes some doing, he always claims he's got too much work or something." I stacked the last of my files, shoving a couple into my bag to work on at home and then sat down to give her my full attention. "So, what brings you to visit me?"

"Oh, I just wanted to stop by and thank you for the flowers whilst I was here. They were lovely."

"Wow, you got them already? I only ordered them this morning." I was surprised. "I just, well I wanted to thank you for the suggestion of Ron and I going away. It, was, well..." I blushed as I thought back on our weekend.

"It was a success then?" She giggled, moving from my desk and taking the seat opposite.

"Oh yes," I grinned.

"And things are, you know, working well?"

"Ginny!" I half laughed at her in mortification.

"Sorry. I'm glad though, I mean, you seem really happy with things."

"It was like a little honeymoon." I smiled to myself. "You know, that whole can't get enough of each other phase?"

"Yeah, don't need details!" She held her hand up to stop me going further, with a little chuckle. "Though I do vaguely remember those days," she sighed wistfully to herself. "So, things are back to normal then, yeah?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "I wouldn't exactly say normal. I mean, there's still a lot he doesn't remember or can't understand about the way we were and our life together before he went missing. But, he's alive, I have him back and he loves me. It's a lot more than I ever dared hope for. I guess it's a new normal. And that's good, really good." I smiled, thinking about this morning. "Even if Rosie was a little dismayed to find daddy in bed with me this morning!"

Ginny's eyes widened. "You weren't…"

"Oh, no!" I gasped and hastily waved away her concern. "Of course not, we were both asleep, fully clothed I might add. But, I think she was just a little put out that she thinks he's stolen her spot," I laughed.

"But," Ginny scrunched her nose up. "Wasn't she upset before when he wasn't sleeping in your bed?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "You know my Rosie though, contrary should have been her middle name!"

"Well, she'll just have to get used to it."

"Yes, she will." I agreed, because I was not kicking my husband out of my bed now that he was back in it for anyone!

"Honestly, this weekend seems to have done you a world of good. You look so happy and content now. And you deserve it after what you've been through. I can't imagine if it had been Harry." She faded off as she inhaled deeply. "Mind you, I think it would do Harry and I some good to have a weekend alone. Maybe I can convince him," she considered the possibility.

"You two okay?" I wondered.

"Oh, we're fine," she flapped her hand in the air. "Harry's just stressed with work, you now how he gets – thinks he has to do everything alone. So, he's been getting home late most nights and after I've been home with the kids all day, we clash a bit. We could do with some time alone."

"Well, it's his birthday in a few weeks. Maybe you could plan a weekend away for that?" I suggested.

She smiled. "That's a good idea. I'd love to have him to myself all weekend and not have to listen to him go on about work and the incompetent staff he's been left to work with. I really think he misses having Ron by his side on the job. Not that he'll admit to that." She rolled her eyes.

"That's understandable. I mean, they've always been there for each other, had each others back since they were kids. I don't know if Ron could return to the job though, or even if he'd want to. It wouldn't be easy for him or practical with the state of his memory right now. But then I'm not sure what his long term plans are or even if he's thought about it. It's not something we've talked about yet."

"Mmm, yeah." She agreed and distractedly fiddled with the ink bottle on my table, straightening it up so as it was beside my quill stand. And then toyed with my name plate on the desk, flipping it over.

"Well," I began, picking up my bag, letting her know I intended to leave. I'd promised Ron I'd be home for a late lunch and he'd have it all ready by now – he'd wanted to make me something special he'd said as I left this morning.

Ginny hadn't moved from her chair when I got up. She was picking at her nails and then fiddling with the ends of a strand of hair, studying it closely for split ends or something. She seemed a little agitated and almost edgy – it was the first time I'd noticed.

"Ginny," I set my bag back down and pulling a chair over to sit next to her. "Is anything wrong?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at me.

"Did you come see me for any other reason?" I suddenly wondered. It would have been just as easy for her to pop over to our house to thank me for the flowers as it was popping into my office.

She looked up at me and inhaled deeply, and I knew there was something on her mind.

"What is it?" I asked, taking her hand. "Are you and Harry really having problems?" Maybe she'd wanted to talk about her relationship, maybe things weren't going well and I'd just swept her confessions aside, trusting she was being honest it was just work related.

"No, we're fine. Honestly." She forced a smile when she saw I doubted her. "But erm, yeah, you're right. There is something else."

"What?" I was worried now.

"It's just…there have been whispers going around the office. At the Prophet I mean, about erm, about...Ron. People swearing that he's returned." She finally confessed, not looking me in the eye as she retied the ribbon on her shirt.

"What?"

"It's just, someone from staff recognised him at that Quidditch match and word got around, not that everyone believes him – they reckon he had a bit too much to drink before the match. But, you know, whispers are starting. People wondering what if it was really him, where he'd have been and why and everything. They tried asking me about him and I didn't know what to say. I mean, you know how rumours start and how dumb they can be. So I've just been telling them to mind their own business. But, I wouldn't be surprised if something is reported soon. Someone's going to mention something, and I just wanted to give you the heads up."

"Great," I sank back into my chair, defeated. Just when things were settling down for Ron and I, when we had some semblance of a normal life back, we were likely to get caught up in some newspaper scandal. "What kind of things are they saying?"

"Nothing much yet," she shrugged. "It's all just theories. But I have heard a couple of suggestions of him having run off with someone else or that he'd been in hiding from some Death Eaters. And erm, someone claimed they knew for a fact you'd thrown him out and had never believed he had died in action. Just, someone is going to pick up on the gossip soon and something will get printed – you three are still big news in our world, you'll always be heroes to them."

"I know, but," I groaned. "Why can't they just leave this, leave us, alone?" I rubbed my temples, irritated now. I had been looking forward to going home for a relaxing afternoon with my family, now I was on edge.

"I just wanted to warn you." She muttered, looking guilty knowing I was upset now.

"Thanks, I do appreciate it." I nodded. "Listen, don't say anything to Ron about this, okay? I don't want him stressing over it all. Especially as it might come to nothing. It's been hard enough for him to return to his own family. Returning to the entire Wizarding population is something else entirely, he's not ready for that."

"Agreed. But, I don't think you can stop the rumours spreading and it's only a matter of time before this hits the press."

"Well, we'll deal with it, somehow, whenever it hits the fan. Hopefully they'll get bored with this soon and someone else will cause a scandal to put them off." I hoped.

"We can only hope," she smiled at me. "But I'll keep an ear out okay, let you know if anything develops with it."

"Thank you. And, thanks for the warning." I sighed. "Anyway, I'd best be getting home now, Ron will have lunch ready and he'll start worrying."

"Okay, I'll let you get home. Tell Ron I might pop in tomorrow and see him."

"I shall. He'd enjoy that, I know he loves being with the kids, but I'm sure he'd appreciate some adult conversation too. And let me know if you want the details for that hotel we stayed in, it was lovely."

"That'd be great." She followed me out of the office and towards the lifts, heading for the floo point in the main atrium before both returning to our respective homes.

Ron was patiently waiting for me in the kitchen when I finally made it home. "Sorry I'm late," I rushed into the kitchen, dumping my bag and cloak on the sofa on my way. I greeted Ron with a kiss and caught sight of Rose and Hugo share a look and then giggle about it out of the corner of my eye. "Ginny popped in to see me and we got chatting." I explained, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table.

"We maded lunch mummy," Hugo told me as I kissed both of the children on top of their heads.

"It smells delicious," I smiled and kissed the top of his head as I ruffled his soft red curls.

"Is everything okay?" Ron wondered, bringing a large dish to the table. "You look a little anxious."

"Fine," I fixed a smile on my face and brushed my hair out of my eyes as I took my seat. "Ginny was just saying that she and Harry could use some time alone. Was thinking about booking them a weekend in that hotel for Harry's birthday?" I quickly made up to hide what was really on my mind, but then realised that was actually a great idea.

"Sounds good." He smiled, sitting beside me and lacing his fingers through mine.

"I'll sort it out then." I nodded and grinned back at him. "So, what did you make us for lunch?"

Ron lifted the foil off the oval dish he'd brought to the table with a certain amount of flair, presenting a steaming, golden shepherds pie.

"Ooh, yum!" I grinned and we all dug in eagerly.

* * *

A few blissful, carefree days followed. Days in which we all revelled in being a proper family again. The children giggled whenever they caught mummy and daddy kissing, but I knew they must have been happy about it as well. The fact that their Mum and Dad were content seemed to make them feel more secure in return and I realised, not for the first time, just how much these last couple of years had affected them and how much they'd missed having a daddy. I don't think I'd ever stop being thankful that he was home, safe and sound. Or ever take his presence for granted again.

Mildred and Max came over for tea on Saturday afternoon as arranged and the children had instantly won them over with their charm – something they got from the Weasley side of the family.

"They're such a delight," Mildred told me whilst helping in the kitchen. The men and the children were outside, where we had been eating. "I'd recognise them as Ron's children anywhere with that gorgeous hair." She laughed watching them out of the window. "Rosie is beautiful and seems so grown up, she reminds me so much of you. And little Hugo, he's going to be a heart breaker." She added.

"Thank you." I smiled proudly. As a mother, I always thought my children were beautiful and perfect, but then I was biased. It was nice to hear someone outside the family praise them. Oh, they had their moments when they tested my patience and they certainly weren't perfect when they were fighting or screaming at three in the morning. But, as far as children go, I knew our pair were pretty well behaved.

Hugo and Rose sat in enchanted silence, listening to Max tell tales about their father working on the farm, feeding the cows and driving a tractor. Hugo, having seen tractors on the roads in the village we lived just outside of, became enthralled by that.

"Can I drive a tractor daddy? Can I?" He bounced excitedly in his seat.

"Maybe one day, son." Ron tussled his hair.

"Perhaps we could visit Mr and Mrs Bridges at the farm one day and you could sit on it with daddy?" I suggested, looking to Max for permission.

"Yes, that's an idea. We've already put in a request to the Ministry to have our floo connected. But, they apparently insist on a home inspection now. So, we're waiting on that."

I nodded. "Security was tightened after the war and everything that happened. They probably want to make sure Muggles wouldn't bear witness to it or anything as well." I explained.

"Well, as soon as it's all sorted, we'll let you know and we'd love to have you all visit us."

"Yay!" Hugo clapped his hands, sidling up to his new friend, Max.

"And can I feed the cows?" Rose asked, eyes wide.

"Of course you can sweetheart." Mildred promised her. Rose's smile lit up her entire face. It seemed they loved Max and Mildred as much as I did, grateful for making their daddy better and glad to have the older couple in our lives. I knew they would always be a part of our family from now on.

* * *

Ever since Rose had found Ron in bed with me last Tuesday morning after our weekend away, she had come to terms with it and now seemed to have made it her personal duty to check early each and every morning he was still there. Whilst this was endearing in some ways, it was also played havoc with our occasional night-time activities in the bedroom. Having to remember to put clothes back on before we slept was something of a chore.

Until the Sunday morning when we were enjoying a little fun under the sheets together and had forgotten.

"Morning day mummy!" Hugo called, as both Ron and I froze. It seemed Rose had come with back up this morning.

"We hungry!" She announced, tugging on the sheets to join us on the bed.

"Hang on sweetheart," I rolled over, careful to keep myself covered. Ron rolled onto his front with a soft grunt, having something else to hide.

"Me come up!" Hugo announced, beginning to climb onto the bottom of the bed.

"Erm…can you. Can you go check if Beau has any post first?" I asked hurriedly, thinking up an excuse to give us a few minutes for Ron and I to fling some clothing on.

Hugo crawled off, about to head downstairs obediently.

"Beau's sleeping in my room," Rose shook her head. "He's not been for any post." She told me.

"Oh, well." I tried to think of something else whilst adjusting the sheets just as Rose was about to climb onto the bed.

"Mummy!" She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand in shock. "You... you got no clothes on!" She whispered loudly. Hugo giggled and wanted to see too, tugging at the sheets.

"Hugo, stop it." I warned him.

"Daddy see your bum!" He giggled loudly. "Daddy bum too?" He wondered, asking if he was naked as well, rushing around to Ron's side of the bed.

"Rose, Hugo!" I spoke firmly, getting their attention. "Go back to your rooms and give Mummy and Daddy five minutes, okay?"

They both whined at us, complaining bitterly.

"Five minutes!" I repeated, using my voice where they knew I meant business.

Rose huffed and sulkily left our room, Hugo, still giggling, followed after her. I knew Rose was cross when she slammed the door behind them.

Ron giggled beside me, just as bad as his son, as he rolled over. "That was close," he muttered, kissing my temple.

"Stop it, we have to get dressed," I told him, scurrying out of bed and hurriedly began pulling clothes out of drawers.

Ron hadn't moved, just rolled onto his back and folded his arms behind his head. "Well, that's going to make things a little awkward." He muttered.

"We'll have to be more careful. And, put a stop to this."

"What?" He managed to choke out as he sprang up in the bed. "Stop having sex?" He looked at me with wide, anxious eyes. Quite a transformation from someone who'd panicked about me merely touching him just over a week ago, to someone who was afraid the intimacy would have to stop.

"No, not everything. Just, the early morning...romps." I hissed whilst pulling some of his clothes out now.

"But that's no fun." he pouted. "Nothing like an early Sunday morning shag. How did we deal with it before?" He lay back down, on his side, propped up on his elbow, watching me.

"Before it wasn't a problem. Hugo was just a baby and Rose was much younger than she is now. She'd usually just stay in her room and yell for us to come get her instead." I sighed, sitting down on the bed to pull on a pair of knickers. "Ron, move it!" I nudged his foot, now slipping my arms into bra straps. I stood and fastened it with a snap.

"Well, I don't think we need to stop having fun just because of that. Can't we talk to them? Explain mummy and daddy need some privacy or something."

I sighed, defeated as I tossed him some clothes. Truth be told, I didn't want to stop our fun either. Hell, I'd been without it for so long, it seemed almost wrong to deny myself, ourselves, that kind of adult fun. "Okay, we'll talk to them about it. Maybe tell them they need to knock if our door is closed?" I suggested.

"Great!" He grinned a smug little grin, having won the battle for early morning romps, before grabbing the T-shirt I had thrown him and pulled it over his head, further messing up his already dishevelled ginger locks.

* * *

"Ginny, could you go wake your father? He's fallen asleep in his chair again." Molly requested as she summoned the last pot to the table for Sunday lunch. The rest of the family all took their seats as she went to find Arthur.

"Daddy sleeped in Mummy's bed!" Rose found it necessary to inform everyone as she reached for her juice.

"That's nice," Molly smiled at her granddaughter and then beamed at myself and Ron. I doubt she'd ever dared envision a time when she'd have her youngest son present at the family Sunday lunch again.

Rose shared a grin with her brother. "And they do kiss, lots!" She added, giggling with Hugo about it.

"Rosie," I warned her, reaching over to help Hugo cut his chicken. I could see the tips of Ron's ears turning pink already.

"Yeah, and Mummy got nudid bum!" Hugo felt the need to add to the conversation.

"That's enough talking now." Molly smiled at him and patted his head. "You eat your dinner." She told him, cleverly diffusing the conversation without giving him attention for what he'd said.

"Nah, this is just getting good," George grinned from across the table.

"For goodness sake, don't encourage them!" Molly warned him.

"Encourage who about what?" Arthur sat down at the table whilst Ginny took her place beside Harry.

"Mummy's nudid bum!" Hugo laughed loudly.

"Hugo! Enough!" I warned him.

Arthur looked confused, looking around the family for clarification of where this conversation was going, so he made the mistake of asking the children what they meant, when we'd all, besides George, been trying to ignore them in hopes they'd stop.

"Mummy had nakered bum in bed this morning." Rose giggled, mispronouncing a word she'd obviously heard someone else use.

"And daddy!" Hugo added, though he'd had no proof about that, he just thought it was funny.

"Really?" George grinned again, rubbing his hands together. No doubt he thought he was about to get some perfect ammunition for teasing his little brother.

Arthur stared at both children perplexed, whilst Molly looked horrified. "What on earth were you doing?" She gasped, obviously scandalised as to what we might have subjected the children to.

"Really Mum? You had seven children, I think you can figure it out." George scoffed, whilst Angelina nudged him sharply with her elbow.

"George!" She snapped.

"No! It wasn't like that, I mean, we weren't…well, we,." I stumbled over my words in my embarrassment. George obviously found this hilarious.

"That weekend away must have done some good then," he winked at us. Ron's face was an amusing shade of pink now.

"Shut up!" he muttered.

"Yes, that's quite enough of that!" Molly agreed.

"Daddy got a willy!" Freddie suddenly announced to the surprised family. All of the children, as well as a few slightly less mature adults, burst into fits of giggles.

It was some time after that before everyone settled down again and Molly had control over the meal once more. But, at least the attention had been taken from Ron and myself. It would seem George may just have been caught in a similar compromising situation that he wasn't so keen to laugh about or appreciate the humiliating attention for.

* * *

Reviews are loved :) Until next week...we have 4 chapters left!


	20. Chapter 20

_Here you go, the next chapter. Thank you as always for your incredible reviews...you don't know how they make me smile and how much I appreciate you taking the time to leave me feedback. Btw, to those of you asking me to write more Romione or upset that this one is nearly at an end, you might be happy to know I have started writing some more Romione :) More info on that soon!_

_Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter and friends. I'm just allowed to play with them sometimes._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

Unfortunately our new normal happy home life didn't last as long as we'd have liked, coming to rather an abrupt end. It would seem that from the moment I had discovered I was a witch and entered the Wizarding World, my life had never been quiet or peaceful. There had always been something there, just waiting to try and mess things up. And that still held true in my adult life.

Thankfully Ron and I were blissfully unaware anything was going on for a few days, though I did begin to notice people staring at me whilst I was at work. One morning, whilst nipping from my office to use the loo, I'd ran into a cluster of women ensconced by the sinks, gossiping avidly. Only the moment they saw me, they all froze and went silent, as though they'd all been met with a multiple hex. I smiled at them politely, whilst feeling somewhat paranoid and shut myself into a cubicle before the whispering started up again, fading slowly as their huddle made for the exit. I tried not to take it personally, but was curious when I heard someone mutter something about feeling sorry for the poor woman.

Curious and paranoid as I was, I was still rather oblivious to the latest scandal rocking the Wizarding population, or that my personal life had anything to do with it. At least until I had chance to catch up with Harry and ask his opinion.

"Harry," I began whilst chasing the salad around my plate that I wasn't really eating. "Have you noticed other people staring at me today?" I asked him. I'd noticed it happen again as I'd left the Ministry for lunch with Harry and it was becoming a little disconcerting to be honest.

"Who?" he asked, turning his head and glaring at the poor little old Muggle man sat sipping his tea on the table behind us. We liked to get out of the Ministry when we could and eat at a local café in Muggle London.

"Not here," I nudged his arm and smiled an apology at the old man. "I meant at work, you know, in our world. People have been giving me funny looks and whispering all day."

"Oh," he shifted in his seat and picked up his glass. "They have?" he asked me, not meeting my eye.

"Yes. Is something going on?" Harry was behaving oddly now, obviously uncomfortable about something and trying to avoid the subject. He'd become a master at it over the years, but those close to him knew the signs. He continued gulping his coke as an excuse not to answer me. "Harry!" I frowned at him and lightly kicked his ankle under the table. "If you know what's going on, I demand you tell me right now."

He sighed and set down his glass with a small burp. The man behind gave a disgusted tut. "It's nothing," he shrugged and picked up another chip, once again filling his mouth so he didn't have to talk. I merely stared at him, waiting for an answer. "Okay," he finally relented and set his fork down. "I only just found out myself though, Ginny sent me a note."

"About what?" I was worried now.

"About this," he muttered, rummaging in his pocket and pulling out a couple of sheets of glossy paper. "Ginny sent them to me with the note. It's erm…it's an article, printed in this week's Witch Weekly." He grimaced as I snatched it from him

I smoothed out the pages. "Bloody Rita Skeeter, should have known!" I grunted at noticing her name alongside the article. "Why can't the annoying excuse for a woman leave us alone?" I grumbled as I began to read to myself, horrified at what was printed and completely dumbfounded over the whole thing.

"_Ronald Weasley – a hero in hiding?_

_As my avid readers know, it was a tragic loss for the Wizarding World when Ronald Weasley, one third of the heroic trio who brought about the fall of Voldemort, was lost in action almost two years ago. He mysteriously went missing when an Auror mission to defeat remaining Death Eaters went disastrously wrong. After months of an extensive search for Weasley, it was regrettably assumed that he had died in battle. _

_But, was that really the case or has he simply been in hiding all this time? Our offices at Witch weekly have recently been inundated with owls from avid readers reporting sightings of said Ron Weasley at a recent Cuddly Cannons vs. Puddlemere United Quidditch Match, along with good friend, the infamous Harry Potter. As well as old school friends Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan. _

_It has now been speculated that Weasley may have faked his own death. Why remains unclear. But one suggestion is that he wanted to escape his disastrous marriage to Ms Hermione Weasley nee Granger who once completed the trio of heroes. Weasley allegedly once confided in one of our sources that his marriage was over and he wanted out, claiming his wife was a "nagging hag who never gave him a moments peace." _

_Other sources insinuate his wife threw him out of their home after it was revealed he was secretly in love with his friend, Potter. He'd been distraught when Potter married his own sister, Ginny Weasley and allegedly only married Granger on the rebound, deeply regretting the action shortly after. _

_Could it be that our red headed hero is actually a little more cowardly than heroic? Or could there possibly be some other bizarre explanation for his disappearance and subsequent reappearance into our world? We, at Witch Weekly, intend to find out the truth of what's really been going on and where he is now for our avid readers._

_We'll keep you posted readers. In the mean time, keep your eyes peeled for Weasley!"_

"Well that's just. That's…preposterous!" I gasped when I was done reading, screwing it up and flinging the pages back at Harry. "I can't believe she'd…that's totally not true!" I almost shouted at him as he shoved the offending pages back into his pocket, out of my sight.

"Ssh!" he whispered as the old man behind tutted at us again. "I know it's not, you don't need to tell me. But, you know what that stupid hag is like. Remember all the rubbish she printed when we were at school and what has been printed since the war? At one point they've had me being Knighted by the Muggle Queen – as if she'd care what I did in a world she'd know nothing about. Rita just hears some juicy whisper of a story and run away with it." He tried to comfort me over it, but it honestly wasn't helping.

"Yes, but the sad thing is, people read that stupid rag and believe it. I mean, even Molly believed some silly things printed when we were at school, about me breaking your heart. That's why people are staring and whispering. They all think I'm the poor mug who's husband ran out and faked his death on her." I folded my arms across my chest and sank back into my chair.

"Look," Harry sighed, probably wishing he'd never shown the darn thing to me. "Tomorrow something else will happen, they'll get a sniff of another so called scandal and all this will be over." He shrugged as he picked up his fork and carried on eating his lunch.

"No it won't. You know what the press are like with the three of us Harry. Witch Weekly ran memorial articles on Ron for months. They still print letters from distraught fans of his and do a memoriam on his birthday. If they really think he faked all this, they're going to give us hell!"

Harry sighed, he didn't know what else to say. But he knew I was right.

"This is going to ruin everything," I muttered to myself. "Just when things were settling down for us all and Ron has made such good progress. He's really happy and now he's going to totally hate all this attention and allegations. You know Harry, I know they're grateful for what we did for our kind, but, sometimes I wish they'd bloody get over it all and leave us the hell alone!" I snapped, in a foul mood now. I knew this was going to put a strain on our already fragile recovering relationship. "I've got a good mind to trap the wretched bug in another jar!" I grumbled, folding my arms defiantly.

Having completely lost my appetite, I waited impatiently for Harry to finish his lunch so as we could return to work. The whole time quotes from the article ran through my mind and irritated me even more. By the time we left, rather than face further scrutiny from the gossip mongers within the Ministry, I took the easy way out and disapparated from behind a skip against a wall, directly to my office. Where I hid myself away from prying eyes for the rest of the working day.

Finally, it was time to head home, and whilst I was relieved to get out of the building for the day, I knew I faced a somewhat difficult conversation with Ron at home that I was not looking forward to. He sensed something was off the minute I appeared in the fireplace, taking my bag from me and offering his hand to help me over the grate.

"You look like you've had a bad day," he smiled.

"Yes," I sighed, kicking my shoes off and scraping my hair back from my face.

"Come here," he pulled me towards him, soot and all, and held me close, hugging me tightly. "That better?" he asked, pressing his lips against mine. I nodded and smiled at him, his hugs did make me feel better and I loved the happiness that shone from his eyes these days – no longer lost and confused. But that just made me even more guilty over what I had to tell him. Rotten bloody media! "My day has been pretty weird," he added, throwing his arm around my shoulder and guiding me into the kitchen.

"How so?" I wondered, hesitantly. I hoped no one had bothered him here already.

"Mummy!" Rose gasped, having ran inside upon seeing me through the window. "We got lots and lots of letters today!" She added excitedly before Ron had a chance to explain anything.

"Letters?" I asked confused and then noted the rather precariously stacked pile of letters and packages on the table. "What?" I asked confused.

"We've had owls arriving all day," he groaned, spying yet another one heading this way through the window. "I don't get it at all. Did you win a competition or something?" he wondered, casually as he opened the window to let the owl in and remove the letter from it's leg.

"No," I replied. "I hoped this wouldn't start yet," I added under my breath,

"What was that?" he asked over his shoulder, having given the owl a treat and watched him fly off, tossing yet another letter to the pile.

"Can we open them?" Rose asked, already rummaging into the pile, scattering them all over the table.

"No!" I almost shouted at her, and then felt bad when she pouted. "Not right now sweetheart. Have you read any?" I asked Ron.

"Of course not!" He looked affronted. "They're all addressed to you. Is something going on?" he asked, eyeing me closer.

I sighed again and sank into a chair at the table, looking at all the letters, wondering briefly who they were all from before deciding they could all sod off – the lot of them – and mind their own damn business.

"Rosie," I got up and went to find my bag. "Why don't you go check on Hugo for me, and here…you can take him his Gingerbread man, and you can have yours too." I handed her the little paper bag from my work bag.

"Now?" she asked, her disappointed face lighting up again. "Not after dinner?"

"Yes, now." I smiled. Every Wednesday, when Harry and I left the Ministry for lunch, I always called at a bakers on the way and bought them both a Gingerbread man as a treat. "Just give mummy and daddy a few minutes, okay?" I asked.

"Thanks Mummy!" She grinned and ran outside again.

"Okay, are you going to tell me what's going on now?" Ron asked, taking a seat at the table and pushing the mail aside.

Searching through the mail myself, I pulled one out, assuming it was what I was searching for and unrolled it. It was what I had suspected – Witch Weekly had so kindly sent me a copy of their magazine, along with a note which I ignored. Having only seen the two page article before, I didn't realise Ron's face was on the front cover. I don't even know where they'd got the photo from, but judging from the expression on his face being all smiley changing to instantly annoyed and holding his hand in front of his face – it must have been a paparazzi photo. Underneath was the headline - 'Ronald Weasley back from the dead?'

"Why am I on that magazine?" Ron frowned at it.

I thumbed through, searching for the right page and then passed it over to him. "You should probably read this," I simply explained.

He took it from me, with a slight scowl and began to read. He'd always been rather a slow reader, at least slower than me, and I grew impatient for him to get to the end. I glanced through the other mail as I waited, most seemed to be from readers, probably full of sympathy or scorn for my situation. Whilst others were from other publications, most likely requesting interviews or something. I just wanted to burn the whole lot of them unopened.

"Well, that's bloody fuckin' ridiculous!" Ron spat, tossing the whole magazine aside.

"I know," I sighed, compassionately.

"I mean, I'd never, ever do that. And I'd certainly never say such mean things about you. And I was in love with Harry? As if!" He scoffed. "It's all just bollocks!" He glared at the offending magazine again. "Barely a word of it's true."

"I know that and you know that. But, unfortunately some crazy people do believe everything they read in these kinds of magazines and…."

"Well, they're fuckin' idiots!" He cut me off.

"Ron, please," I sighed again. It had been such a long day and I didn't know how to deal with his anger right now.

"I'm sorry, I just...urgh!" He groaned in frustration and buried his face in his hands.

"I know, exactly," I heaved a huge sigh. "I don't know what to do about it all."

"Just ignore it?" He suggested, slipping one hand from his face.

I smiled at his simplicity. "This isn't just going to go away that easily I'm afraid. From what I know about the media, in any world, things are going to get worse before they get better. Once they get their hands on a juicy story, they'll lay into us for as long as people are interested."

"People need to mind their own fuckin' business," he muttered, glaring at all the mail now. "So, all this is?" He waved his hand towards the other letters.

"I'm presuming from readers and requests for interviews and…other junk."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Why can't people leave us alone?" He voiced the same question I'd been asking myself all afternoon.

"I don't know sweetheart. I know it's not fair. I mean, we're just getting things back on track between us all, getting some normalcy back. I don't want this to cause problems for us."

"Well, I don't want people sticking their fucking nose in our business."

"They already have Ron." I pointed out. "But, please, don't let this change things for us. You know I don't believe any of that, I know the truth, those that matter know the truth. We will stand by each other and we'll get through this together, okay?"

He nodded, grumpily. "So, what do we do with this lot in the meantime?" He again glared at the letters, as though they were bombs about to explode.

I sighed and pulled the stack towards me, quickly I checked through them that there was nothing of any importance. There was one letter from Max and Mildred addressed to us both and another from Flourish and Blotts about some books I'd ordered. I set those two aside. The rest I collected up and carried towards the fire in the lounge, tossing them all in, watching as they burned. Ron joined me, an arm around my shoulders.

"You're right though, that isn't going to stop them for long, is it?" He realised gloomily.

"It will stop them tonight." I turned and kissed his cheek. "Come on, let's make dinner and forget about it all. It's just a whole load of nonsense!" I hugged him and we returned to the kitchen, making a quick dinner between us.

* * *

I awoke early the next day, despite it being my morning off work, thanks to an incessant tapping on the window. Finally I dragged myself from bed and peaked out of the curtains, only to be met with the sight of about half a dozen owls fluttering around, all with letters attached to their legs.

I groaned loudly, jerked the curtains back in place and attempted to ignore them. At least until the tapping, now much louder, woke Ron and the children.

"Was'goin'on?" Ron mumbled into his pillow.

"Mummy!" Rose ran into our room excitedly, crashing doors open and flinging the curtains back with a flourish. "There is lots and lots of owls!" she exclaimed, grinning at me as she jumped up and down.

"So I've seen," I mumbled, squinting in the now bright sunshine streaming into the room.

"More owls?" Ron asked grumpily, slowly sitting up as a sleepy Hugo crawled into his lap. Usually on my mornings off, we all liked to sleep late, having a lazy morning and then enjoying a huge brunch together before I had to get ready for work. As it was, it was barely eight am and we were all awake, having been rudely disturbed.

"Lots!" Rose reiterated, waving her arms in an arc and a wide grin adorning her face.

"Why are they so fu…lipping," he quickly corrected his language, "interested in us anyway?"

"Are you kidding?" I yawned. "After the war, everything we did was reported – we were hot news for months on end. Hailed heroes of our world and people wanted to know everything about us. Everything we did, any dates we had, when we got engaged and got married. When the children were born. Every shop, event or funeral we went to – everything. We could barely blink or sneeze or…."

"Fart?" Ron asked, making Hugo giggle from beneath the sheets.

"Charming Ronald, but you get the idea. We couldn't do anything without it being reported. I thought they'd lost interest in later years, but…this, I suppose it's hot news to them. A hero returning." I groaned. "Always made me feel bad for how Harry must have felt dealing with this the majority of his life." I sighed dramatically.

And as I spoke Harry's name, I recalled a story he'd once told us, of his guardian's home being bombarded with owls whilst trying to deliver his Hogwarts acceptance letter. His Aunt and Uncle, afraid of magic, had tried to bar them being delivered. Only to have letters stream in through cracks under the door, through windows and down the chimney. That mental picture was enough for me to finally acknowledge the owls and open the window for them.

"You'll have to form a queue and be patient!" I called to them all, irritated, as they all clamoured around the window the moment I opened it, wanting to deliver their letter first.

It became evident whilst removing the letters from each owl, a pile mounting on the bed behind me, why we had another influx of deliveries today; The Daily Prophet had latched onto the story already and were now running wild with it.

Ron and I, each with our own copies of the newspaper, read them over breakfast – the children happily distracted with the smiley face eggs their Dad had made for them. Every so often we'd groan at a bit, or burst out with comments such as 'how ridiculous', 'don't be daft' or, in Ron's case, 'get a fu…lippin' life'!

"Here's a new one," Ron read out to me. "You threw me out of the house and I've been living in a cave ever since." He rolled his eyes. "Or, how about this one…I've been on the run from Aurors themselves chasing me." He slapped the newspaper closed and tossed it onto the table in disgust.

"I can beat that one," I muttered, still reading it. In all honesty, some of their theories could be possible, such as him being in hiding from Death Eaters or bed ridden in a Muggle hospital. But most of them were even more ludicrous than what Witch Weekly had already printed. "Apparently you're an unregistered Animagus, and you've been living in your animal form the last two years."

"And what are they saying my Animagus is?" He wondered, sipping his tea.

"Erm," I scanned the rest of the article. "Everything from a weasel…"

"How original!" he quipped.

"…to a cow and, hmm, an elephant!"

"Elephant?" He laughed. "Yeah, like that would go unnoticed wandering around the Hertfordshire countryside!" He shook his head. "Honestly, these people are…bloody stupid!"

"You said bloody!" Rose pointed out to him.

"Sorry Rosie," Ron smiled at her. "Daddy is a bit cross with the silly old newspaper."

"Where elepants Mummy?" Hugo asked, trying to pull the paper from me to see for himself. It still seemed somewhat strange to me that commonly known animals like monkeys or elephants were more unusual and thrilling to our children than hippogriffs, dragons or doxy's.

"There isn't a real elephant, they're just being very silly." I explained to our son, folding my own copy and setting it down to finish my breakfast.

"Oh," he murmured and drank his juice.

Ten minutes later, we'd just about got cleared up from breakfast when Molly arrived via the floo. "Ah, you've already seen the newspaper?" she said, upon spying copies of The Daily Prophet on the kitchen table as she greeted her grandchildren with hugs and kisses.

"Yes, and all the utter crap they're printing." Ron muttered.

"Now, don't you worry about all that. I've already written a strongly worded letter to the editor about them writing such things." She looked proud of herself.

"Mum," Ron whined.

"I am not having anyone writing such rubbish about my son!"

"You'll just make it worse," he continued to grumble.

"Nonsense! Someone needs to put them straight and who better than your own Mother!" She puffed out her chest some, with her hands on her hips, making herself look more formidable than usual.

Ron just groaned and slid into the kitchen chair whilst I poured Molly a cup of tea. "That's it!" I realised, setting the refreshed tea pot down.

"What is?" he blinked up at me.

"We need to set the record straight, get the truth out there."

Ron just pulled a face about it all. I think he hoped if he ignored it, it would go away. Molly on the other hand looked at me eagerly. "What are you suggesting love?" she asked, stirring her tea.

"We give them an interview, we can straighten…."

"Oh no!" Ron waved his hands in front of himself. "No way! I'm not telling everyone our personal business and having our entire population read about it. That's just…it's none of their damn business!"

"I know Ron, but they're only going to speculate more and make up even more ridiculous theories if they don't know the truth about you, about what really happened."

"It's none of their damn business!" He repeated, folding his arms.

"But they think it is." I pointed out

"Hermione's right Ron, love. You three are still a hot commodity in our world, they think they have some right to know your business. And, isn't them knowing the truth better than all these silly rumours?"

Ron continued to sulk, glaring at both of us. "I want them to just leave us alone, to get on with our life in private thanks very much."

"I want that too sweetheart, and one day things will calm down. I mean, it's better now than it used to be. But when something like this happens," I sighed, trying to think of another tactic to convince him. Truth be told, holding an interview about our personal life and what happened wasn't my idea of fun either. But it was the better or two evils right now.

"Look, everyone thought you died, not just your family. People we don't even know mourned for you, memorials were printed in magazines for weeks, it was a sad loss to our community. The fact that you're back, it's exciting to everyone, not just me and your mum and the kids. Everyone who knows of you, and whilst right now it's all just going crazy, people just want to share that excitement. A short interview will please everyone and hopefully calm things down."

"How will it calm things down if they'd be excited?" He muttered, being difficult on purpose.

"You know what I mean!" I snapped at him. "The silly rumours and theories will calm down. The letters will eventually stop arriving and then we can get back to our lives."

"Seems to me the letters will stop eventually if we ignore them too."

"So you're just going to hide out here for ever more? You're never going to venture in public again? No more Quidditch matches or visits to Diagon Alley? No drinks at the Leaky with friends? No work? And what about seeing the children off to Hogwarts when the time comes? Because if we don't stop this now and tell them what really happened, every time you step foot in our world, there is going to be talk and people are going to whisper about us and assume things they don't know. This way, we shut them up about it all and they can move onto the next Wizarding drama."

Ron sighed, deeply, still slouched on the char reminiscent of his daughter when she didn't get her own way.

"Ron, I don't want this to come between us. We've worked so hard to get back what we have now. We've waited too long to be happy again. I'm not going to let some silly articles in the newspaper upset us or have this hanging over our heads forever."

"I suppose so," he eventually muttered.

"You suppose so what?" I asked him.

"I guess we'll do an interview or whatever," he mumbled.

"Thank you. It will be for the best, you'll see." I smiled and kissed his cheek. Ron pulled a silly face at me and then rolled his eyes as his Mum ruffled his hair.

"That's my boy!" She smiled.

"I don't want some little hot shot asking us dumb questions though or trying to trick us into saying something we don't mean to or whatever. Or using that damn quick quotes quill – that'd be worse than the rumours."

"I'll see if we can find a friend to conduct the interview. Someone Ginny knows, or maybe even Luna? I think she still works with her Dad at The Quibbler sometimes."

"The Quibbler?" Ron and his Mum both looked aghast. "That won't make things any better. Articles in there are all jokes as far as most people are concerned. You'd be a laughing stock." Molly commented.

"It worked for Harry once," I shrugged. "And we don't have to print it in The Quibbler, she can just interview us. But, if you prefer I'll ask Ginny if she can recommend someone first."

"Fine," he huffed and then looked at the time. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for work?" he wondered, changing the subject.

I smiled. "Actually, they said I can work from home today, what with all the fuss going on. I could do without the stares and whispering to be honest." I admitted.

"Oh, right." he nodded and wandered off, deep in thought about something.

* * *

Ginny didn't really trust anyone enough at the Daily Prophet to give us a fair interview. Not that she disliked her colleagues or anything, it was just she knew the way journalists worked and how they'd angle this story.

"With Luna, you can just tell her the story and she'll write it how you tell it. With the Prophet, they'll ask all sorts of personal questions not relevant to the story. All you want to do is explain the truth about what happened with Ron, you don't want to give them any other personal information. But, I know they'd fish for it." She warned us.

"What kind of personal things? I mean, isn't this personal enough?" Ron was still not at all happy with the idea of giving any kind of interview.

"No," she shook her head, flicking her long red hair over her shoulder. "This is nothing compared to questions about your sex life or any romantic involvement with others during the separation. How your relationship is going now and all manner of things they'd want to delve into. I know how they work Ron. Sure, you and Hermione have had your share of the press, but when I was with The Harpies, my relationship with Harry was front page news on a daily basis and the questions I'd get asked were just humiliating at times. You want to keep as much out of the press as possible. Some things are just private."

Ron nodded, thoughtfully. Truth was, he didn't really remember much of our press attention from before. This was his first brutal reminder of it all. And he'd never been around for the aftermath of his disappearance. The Wizarding world went into mourning for him and the media ran with it.

"So, will Luna do the interview?" I wondered, knowing Ginny was right in suggesting Luna was probably our best bet for a fair story.

"I have mentioned it to her and she said she'd be happy to tell your story. She doesn't work with her Dad so much now, she's been off travelling a lot and searching for, well you know, her random and more than likely imaginary, creatures with this new boyfriend of hers. But she said she'd love to see Ron again and hear what happened and promised she'd just write your story. Her Dad will then sell it, as is, no changes, to other publications."

"And that will be that? They'll stop hassling us?" Ron hoped.

"Not straight away, no," Ginny shook her head, giving her brother a regretful look. "And you'll need to make it clear this is the only interview you're giving about the whole situation and you will not be answering any further questions on it. Soon enough, they'll grow bored with nothing scandalous to print about you two and move on to someone else."

"So, could you arrange a time with Luna?" I asked Ginny. "We're free whenever she is, right?" I asked Ron. He nodded, half-heartedly.

A few days later. Ginny brought Luna over to our house, and after we'd all greeted one another, Ginny took our children back with her to allow us some peace to conduct the interview. Gathering around the kitchen table, Luna set up an interesting contraption she assured us would record our voices. It worked in principal the same as a Muggle Dictaphone, but looked completely different with a large ear shape to filter the sounds and instead of being recorded onto tape or digital software, our voices swirled inside a glass dome of glittering specks – like a Muggle child's snow globe.

"Right, so, would you just like to just tell me your story?" She asked, we nodded. "Shall we start with when Ron disappeared? And then Ron, you can pick up with what happened to you, and then we'll talk about how you found one another again?" Luna suggested, after tapping her contraption with her wand and sorting out a stack of parchment and quills.

I breathed an internal sigh of relief, so far it seemed Luna was behaving rather professionally and I was grateful. Luna was a dear friend, but she did tend to have some rather bizarre tendencies we had come to know and love her for. My confidence grew that maybe this interview would go well.

"Of course, I know everything already printed is complete rubbish! I knew none of it was true the moment I read it," Luna commented.

"Thank you Luna," Ron replied, awkwardly.

"I mean, your Animagus would obviously be a fox, because of your hair," she smiled and sat back, as though that fact was obvious to anyone.

"Erm, Luna, you do know I'm not really an Animagus at all, right?" Ron was trying not to laugh.

"You're not? Are you sure?" She frowned at him.

"Yes, quite sure," I snapped, frustrated already. Perhaps I had been a little hasty in my initial confidence. "Now, do you think we can get on with the this interview?"

"Oh. Yes, yes. Of course," she smiled dreamily.

"Right, well first of all I would like to make it clear that under no circumstances did I know Ron was in fact alive all this time. This has never been a conspiracy or a secret kept from anyone and we've never hid Ron away. As far as I knew, Ron was…gone. I had lost my husband." Even now it was difficult for me to say he had died. "The grief I went through was very real and the months of despondence after that very difficult for me to live through. But I had small children to think of, and somehow I had to find a way to go on without him. I would never have wished that pain on anyone if we'd really known he was in fact still alive."

"And I just want to add, that if anyone seriously thinks I would put the people I love most - my wife, my children or my family, through that grief for nothing...well, they're bloody mental!" Ron huffed.

Luna nodded and offered him a smile. "I know there was an extensive search for him." She asked me.

"Yes, and what many people don't realise is that even after the case was officially closed and Ron was presumed….dead," I almost choked on the word. "Harry, along with some family and friends continued looking for him, trying everything they could think of to find him. It was months before Harry admitted defeat, he didn't want to lose his best friend any more than I wanted to lose my husband."

"How about a locator spell?" She asked, rather rationally for her. "People are saying if you'd used a locator spell you'd have found him easily. Which is why his disappearance is being questioned."

"Of course we tried that," I snapped and then felt guilty. This wasn't Luna's fault after all. No matter her strange reasoning, I knew she knew the truth. "We tried it many times, with many different objects," I sighed. "But, well, circumstances as they were, it's obvious now why that didn't work."

"And why is that?" she inquired.

"Because I was badly injured," Ron took his side of the story up. "I don't remember much of the battle or what happened to me exactly, but I remember waking up in this little room, with an older woman there. Her husband told me I'd crashed through their barn and they'd found me half alive." He explained his version of things. "She took good care of me and I was in and out of unconsciousness for some time. But, when I finally came around, some weeks later, I realised I had lost my memory. I didn't even know who I was."

"You didn't get any owls then?"

"What?" Ron screwed his face up.

"Owls," she repeated slowly as though he was still suffering a head injury. "Owls in our world are supposed to be able to find any witch or wizard, unless they put a repelling or masking spell on themselves, so they're untraceable. So, no owls were sent or received?"

"Erm...no," Ron shook his head and seemed puzzled.

"Of course we sent owls." I interrupted impatiently. "Many, many owls, but none found him. And then Harry realised that Ron had been on an important Auror mission when he went missing. It's common practice for Aurors on a mission to place repelling spells on themselves to protect their location. The spell was probably still on him." I sighed, wondering what Luna's angle was here – it was like she didn't believe us. "And, with him not knowing who he was, not knowing us or that he even had a family or anything, that is probably why the locator spell didn't work either. It couldn't connect with him because he wasn't himself so to speak."

"Where did you lose it?" Luna asked abruptly.

"Huh?" Ron looked confused and turned to me for clarification. I merely shrugged, Luna still baffled me from time to time.

"Your memory, you said you lost it. Where?" She asked innocently.

"What?" He laughed, thinking she was joking. He shared a wry grin with me and rolled his eyes humorously. Luna continued to look at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. "Hang on, you don't really think?" It dawned on him that her question was sincere, that she wasn't just having a laugh with him. "Luna, I didn't actually...I mean that I couldn't remember anything." He added, now rather wary as he frowned at me again, probably wondering what I had gotten him into. I just shook my head.

"Nothing at all?" She asked, surprised.

Ron shrugged. "Somehow I knew I was a wizard and had some basic knowledge of our world. Hermione thinks it's because it's inbred in me or something, being a Wizard is in my blood. Max and Mildred, the couple who took care of me, were magical folk, though they didn't participate in our world any more. But, no, I didn't even know my own name, let alone where I'd come from or that I had a family or anything."

"And how is the memory going now?" She wondered. "Did you find it yet?" She spoke as though it was a lost inanimate possession you might happen to come across one day after spending months searching for it.

"With Hermione's help, as well as my family and friends bits and pieces have now come back to me, there are certain events I can now remember. But not everything, a lot of my memory is like a vague dream, or a dusty old photograph, not quite perfect." He tried to explain.

Luna nodded. "Have you tried eating a dirigible plum whilst standing upside down? And you need to hum 'Thorbert The Troll's' lullaby backwards whilst chewing. Then, once you've swallowed, jump down, take three paces back and then jump twice to the left."

"And what...would I want to...do that...for?" Ron choked out through howls of laughter.

"To remember of course," she smiled at him dreamily, as though it should have been obvious.

"How can that…does that even. Is that actually a thing?" he asked her curiously.

"It's worked for me a couple of times when I've forgotten where I've put my wand, or where I'm supposed to be." She gave a small shrug. That, it seemed, was proof enough for her.

"I hardly think losing an item or a momentary lapse of memory is the same as suffering from amnesia!" I sighed dramatically. I'd rather get this interview over with so I could get on with my day, than discussing Luna's more…loony ideas!

"But, does it work?" Ron asked her.

"Of course not! Totally ridiculous!" I scoffed. How could anyone think the idea had even the remotest chance of working?

"Have you ever tried it?" Luna asked me, giving me an intense gaze that made me squirm.

"Well, no. but…" I stammered, knowing it was ridiculous, but also knowing she probably totally believed in it. Sometimes, with her seemingly crazy notions, it was hard not to offend Luna. Not that she ever took things personally, she just didn't care what others thought of her at all. A trait I often admired in her.

Ron smiled at her, a hint of amusement on his face still, but something else in his eyes, a glimmer of hope maybe. And somehow I knew my daft husband was going to try it. I suppose it wouldn't hurt if he did and strangely, the idea that he'd be willing to try something so ludicrous in order to remember everything clearly, touched me.

"Anyway, our story?" I reminded them both what we were supposed to be doing here.

"Oh, yes. So, would you like to tell us what happened after that?" Luna snapped back into professional mode. Well, as professional as Luna could ever behave.

Ron went on to explain about him living and working on the farm. How he spent his time in the small seaside village, not knowing who he really was or anything and going by the name, Roland. And then finally, we both explained how we found him. How Harry and I had chased after what seemed like an act of desperation at the time.

"I think I'd have clung to any glimmer of hope we might find him one day," I confessed. "I always felt I'd feel it if he was truly gone. So when there was the slightest suggestion he'd been seen, I had to find out for myself."

We relayed the scene of finding Ron in the village pub, our meeting with him the following day and how we realised he didn't know who we were.

"I was both excited and terribly scared about it all." Ron confessed for the first time. He'd never told me that. "Finally there was someone who knew me, knew who I was. But, I didn't know them and I didn't really know what this all meant or what was going to happen. Finding out this beautiful woman was my wife threw me completely, how could I forget my wife and children? I had a bit of a hard time with it all." He admitted.

"But, you came home with me. You trusted me and we have our family back." I smiled at him.

"We do. Things are good now. I love being a dad to our incredible kids and having a family and friends who care about me. We're getting back what we lost, slowly regaining memories and growing closer together as a couple as well as a family. I am well aware I am an incredibly lucky man."

"And I'm a very lucky woman. I have the love of my life back." I beamed at Ron across the kitchen table with soft sigh.

"Although there's still a lot I don't really remember. Like know how we once behaved together or how this felt before. I have this amazing woman I have fallen in love with all over again. In some ways it's all new to me, in others it's as familiar as the back of my hand. We fit together and I've fallen in love with my wife for the second time." Ron wasn't speaking to Luna at all, he was gazing intently at me, a slight blush to his cheeks and the tips of his ears at his heartfelt confession. I smiled back at him, my eyes watery with tears.

"And you're both happy? I mean, it can't have been easy for either of you. But, being back together is what you want?" Luna wondered.

Ron reached for my hand across the table, his fingers laced through mine. We both smiled and at the same time, breathed the word "Yes", together. "Very happy." We added.

"And there's nothing I want more," Ron grinned at me.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed. Reviews make me happy...and make me write faster :p Three more to go and I should just get this all posted before my holidays.


	21. Chapter 21

_Oops! I only just remembered to post this because I'm sat in bed watching Harry Potter (for a change :p ) Sorry it's a bit late!_

_This chapter is a bit shorter than my usual, as is the next one...but I promise a pretty good final chapter (well, I think so!) Hope you enjoy._

_Disclaimer: If I was JK Rowling, I'd be living my dream, but as I'm not...I guess i'm not her!_

**Chapter Twenty-****one**

"Ron…" I began, whilst marking the page of my book with my finger and closing the pages around it.

"Mmm?" He replied, idly turning the page of the newspaper. I gently nudged him with my foot that had been resting in his lap as we lounged on the sofa together before retiring to bed for the night. That got his attention. "What?" he asked, setting the paper down and turning to look at me.

"How do you feel about coming to Diagon Alley with me this weekend?" I wondered. Since the Quidditch match he'd hardly dared leave the house except to visit family. I thought it was about time that changed.

"Oh, I don't know," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as he tossed the newspaper onto the coffee table.

"Come on sweetheart, that article has been out more than a couple of weeks now, people have calmed down. They'll be bored of it all by now."

"You sure about that?" he raised one eyebrow and nodded to the small stack of letters that had arrived only this morning. "Seems we still have plenty of fans." he sighed.

I followed his line of vision to the letters scattered on the rug in front of the fire. Rose had had fun opening them all and trying to read them, not very successfully mind you. Molly and I had started to teach her to read between us, but she could only recognise a few simple words yet. Which was lucky when a rather suggestive letter arrived for Ron, along with a photo we thankfully got to first. Both had gone straight onto the fire. Thankfully the majority of the letters were simply best wishes or congratulations or sharing their joy that Ron was back in all of our lives.

"I know, but there's always going to people who recognise us, even if this had never happened. We used to get stopped by strangers even before you disappeared." I pointed out.

"Not like this," he grunted, shifting his feet on the table.

I sighed deeply, he was right – of course he was right. Thanks to Witch Weekly magazine running with their front page headline of Ron's quote about falling in love with his wife all over again, we had become something of the romantic couple of the century in our world. They were still publishing articles about us, sickly sweet articles that made us out to be some kind of magical Romeo and Juliet. Our family found it all hilarious, I was personally horrified. Yes, I loved Ron immensely and in the privacy of our home, we were romantic with one another. But I had never been one of those silly, giggly girly girls and being portrayed as such right now was humiliating. Still, I suppose it was better than all the harassment we were getting before.

"Please Ron," I tried a new tactic. "I could do with your help, we need a lot of things. Hugo has outgrown all of his shoes and trousers. And I promised Rose she could have a new dress for her birthday party in a couple of weeks. Plus we need potion ingredients, groceries, owl treats and a dozen other things. I won't be able to get it all done without help."

"Can't you just put an extension charm on his shoes and things?" he suggested. "And Rose has plenty of pretty dresses," he muttered, thinking that would knock a few items off my list.

"No." I replied firmly. "Because when I was pregnant with Rosie, you vowed that any child of ours would never want for anything and would never have hand-me-downs. They would always have new things when they needed them. Right now Hugo needs them. And I promised Rose, it's been a long time since she had a new dress."

"Okay," he muttered, feeling suitably rebuffed. "Fine, get them new things. But, can't Ginny go with you or something?" he asked, hopeful.

"Ron, please? Can't we just have a nice family day out? We can get our shopping done and then have dinner in the Leaky afterwards? And, I would like your approval of the things for the children, it's been a long time since we bought them things together."

He was quite for a few moments, looking somewhat sullen. "How did you buy them things?" he suddenly asked. "I mean, you haven't been working full time and without my pay, it can't have been easy."

I shifted my position on the sofa, turning snuggle into his side. See, I could be romantic and loving, I thought. "It wasn't easy, no. But money wasn't the issue. We had good savings and I got a widows pension from the Ministry. Mostly I just missed your input on things, your approval or suggestions, not that I always listened to them," I smirked. "But, I missed doing those things together."

"A pension?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes, a kind of widows support fund." I replied. "Oh, I assume that will all stop now though, I mean, you're alive," I hugged him and then froze as something else occurred to me. "I hope I don't have to pay it all back," I sat up and stared at him. "I mean, you were never really dead and now you're back with me. It was supposed to support widows and families of Aurors lost in action. We can't afford to pay it back, it's pretty much all gone on the children and the house, apart from some I was setting aside for when they started school." I looked at him frantically.

"Shh." He kissed the top of my head. "I'm sure Harry can sort it all out, or we could talk to Kingsley?" he suggested. "Don't worry about it." He pulled me into his arms.

I nodded. "Yes, we'll talk to Harry tomorrow and sort it all out. I suppose something would have happened already if that was the case. Though, maybe they're not aware and…"

"Hermione," Ron eyed me warningly. "You're doing it again." He smiled at me and tapped the tip of my nose.

"Sorry," I muttered and lay my head on his shoulder. He was right, again – I'd let my mind wander and worry about things we didn't need to worry about. "So," I asked after a few minutes sat in comfortable silence, cuddled up together. "How about this weekend?"

Ron groaned and rubbed his eyes. I think he'd thought I'd given up on that idea with my worry about the money. He wasn't amused I hadn't.

"Come on, you know how George has been at you to visit the shop. He wants to show you the changes and new products."

"Not that I can remember much from before anyway," Ron muttered.

It was my turn to eye Ron, giving him a silent stare as I waited for him to make his decision. This usually worked to my benefit, knowing he found it hard to say no to me.

"Oh, fine," he groaned and lay his head back on the cushion behind him as he gave in. "I'll go with you and help with the shopping. But, any trouble and we're out of there, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed too eagerly and kissed his cheek. "It will be fun, you'll see."

"Huh," he scoffed, unconvinced and behaving sulky about it. Yet he turned his head as I kissed his cheek again and caught my lips in a proper kiss, lips and tongue mingling together as our bodies shifted closer. "Come on," Ron murmured as we parted. "Let's go to bed." He stood and tugged on my hand.

"But, it's barely nine o'clock," I pointed out, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was rather early for us.

"I never said I was tired," he smirked at me, still holding onto my hand.

"Oh," I grinned, realising what he was getting at. "Then yes, let's go to bed," I scrambled off the sofa quickly and readily followed him up the stairs.

* * *

"People are staring," Ron grumbled, clutching onto Rosie's hand as we exited the brick archway from the Leaky Cauldron. I suspected his firm grip on our daughter's hand was more for his benefit than for hers.

"Then, don't look at them," I suggested, grabbing Hugo's hand before he ran off. If allowed, he'd stand and stare at the latest broom in the Quidditch shop window for hours.

"Huh, what am I supposed to do, stare at the ground?" He continued to grumble as we moved into the throng of people out shopping. Perhaps coming on a weekend wasn't such a good idea, I thought in hindsight.

"We'll head to Madam Malkin's first. You can sort Hugo out with shoes and trousers, whilst Rosie and I choose a dress," I smiled down at our daughter as her face lit up.

Outside Flourish and Blotts were a small cluster of teenage girls, casting us sneaky glances whilst giggling and whispering. I smiled at them, suspecting it was Ron they were interested in more than me, especially as when he looked up at them, they giggled loudly and all ran into the shop amongst girly squeals. Just the kind of girl I never was, well apart from that irrational and short lived schoolgirl crush I'd had on Professor Lockhart. I had only been about 12 years old at the time though.

I shook my head at the girls, glad that Ron had so far failed to notice them and ushered my family towards the robes shop. Though before we had taken more than two steps, an elderly man blocked our way, staring up at Ron.

"Merlin's beard," he gasped. "It's you, it really is you." He shook his own head of silver streaked hair in disbelief and reached out a wizened hand to touch Ron.

"Erm, yeah," Ron replied, whilst looking to me for help. I just shrugged, I hadn't a clue who he was either.

"It's good to have you back Mr Weasley, very good." He held out his hand. Ron took it reluctantly and briefly shook the man's hand.

"Erm, yeah, thanks." He mumbled in reply, whilst the tips of his ears turned pink.

The elderly man just grinned at him and then turned, wandering away muttering to himself.

"Who was that Daddy?" Hugo asked.

"I haven't a clue," Ron shrugged. "Come on, let's get this shopping done," he added, grumpy again as he stalked off towards the shop, eager to get inside before he had any more run ins. I was glad he hadn't noticed those girls eyeing him up, otherwise I think he'd have made a run for it.

A bell tinkled over the door as we entered and Madam Malkin herself, sat at a stool beside her work desk, looked up from her sewing. A small smile gradually grew across her face as she tossed aside her work and came to greet us.

"Now, there's a sight for sore eyes. Ronald Weasley," she beamed. "Didn't think I'd see you again. Welcome back." She smiled and reached for his hand.

"Thanks," Ron mumbled, shaking her hand briefly.

She slowly shook her head as she continued to smile at us. "Oh, I remember fitting you for various robes over the years." She told Ron and the children excitedly, as though it had been her proudest moment. "I never did get to work on your school robes. But I remember the day you came in for me to adjust your Auror robes, you were so proud. And then when you came to be fitted for your dress robes for your wedding. He was so excited about marrying you," she smiled at me. "He could barely stand still. So obviously very in love and a case of giddy nervousness."

"Erm, yeah," Ron mumbled and began rubbing the back of his neck in anxiety.

"Yes. Well, we actually came in to…" I started, but was cut off again by her ramble.

"Of course, that's how I knew all those stories were such nonsense. As if you'd ever leave your wife," she rolled her eyes. "You were far too much in love. And I'm so glad you found one another again, your story is quite remarkable and very romantic. Though, inevitable given the bond your souls share, and…"

"Mummy! Dresses!" Rose interrupted and began pulling me towards a display of a pretty pink party dress.

"Oh, I'm sorry, listen to me ramble on," Madam Malkin apologised. "Of course you came in to shop, not just chat," she smiled. "How can I help you?" She returned to her professional demeanour.

"Our daughter would like a new party dress for her birthday please. And our son is in need of new shoes and trousers.

"They grow so fast," she sighed. "Come along then, us girls will have a look at dresses. Ronald, why don't you take your son upstairs to find Zacharias and he can help you out." She smiled, hurrying anxiously after Rose who was gleefully skipping through the bolts of fabrics and lace, stroking her fingers across them all.

"Well, hello there Ronald Weasley. Long time no see." I heard a voice greet Ron upstairs.

"Erm, hi…" Ron mumbled in reply. I could practically see him rubbing the back of his neck and shuffling his feet in awkwardness.

"You don't remember me, do you?" The voice asked him.

"No. I'm sorry, I erm, you see…"

"I guess all that stuff about your memory loss is true then?" he asked. "You really don't remember, do you?"

Silence, I guess Ron was shaking his head.

"Zac Smith," the voice answered for him. "We were in the same year at school, though I was in Hufflepuff."

"Oh, right." Ron replied, none the wiser as to who he was. I was actually glad of the fact – Ronald and Zacharias had never really gotten along at school. "Erm, hello." Ron added politely.

"Yes. It's been awhile, I only started working here about a year ago. But…"

"Shoes!" Hugo suddenly blurted out.

"Huh?" Zac asked, sounding somewhat confused.

"I need shoes for my son." Ron explained. "and Trousers."

"Yes, trousers!" Hugo exclaimed loudly. Obviously he was totally bored with all this walk down memory lane and hanging around boring clothes shops. He just wanted to go see the brooms or perhaps get a treat from his Uncles shop. Not be in a shop filled with girly lace and pink things.

"Right, then we'll see what we can do," Zac replied. After that I became lost in our discussion of Rose's dress and in choosing fabrics and designs, so I didn't hear any more of their conversation.

Half an hour later, with shoes and trousers purchased, and a dress measured for and ordered for delivery in a few days, we were heading out of the shop. Hugo pulled eagerly on his Dad's hand, almost making Ron trip over his own feet in his exuberance.

"Bwooms daddy!" he huffed, heaving his Dad along.

"Why don't you take him to look at the brooms," I suggested. "Rose and I will…."

"Mr Weasley!"

"Ronald!"

"Mr Weasley, please sir…"

"Can you sign this for me," a girly voice sighed.

Quite suddenly we were surrounded by the gaggle of girls I'd seen hanging around the book shop earlier, all now clutching copies of the latest Witch Weekly publication, Ron's face featuring on the front cover, and all pushing to get closer to Ron and shoving the magazine under his nose.

"I love you." Another sighed close by, hugging the magazine to her chest.

Ron looked up at me wide eyed. Hugo stopped pulling on his Dad's arm and now hid behind his legs, a little frightened and yet curious by the shrieking girls as he peered around them. Rose huffed, annoyed with the whole thing whilst I rolled my eyes.

"Please Mr Weasley, Ronald." One of the girls giggled. "Will you sign our magazines? We just, we think…" She broke off as she giggled again and flushed red, unable to finish her sentence.

"We love you. You're just so romantic." Her friend sighed dramatically and thrust her magazine at him.

Ron began to back up. "But, I don't want…"

"Oh please sir? We just think you're amazing and," she paused to sigh dreamily. "You're so lucky," another of the girls gushed at me.

"But, why? I don't…" Ron was frowning and looking around for the nearest escape route

"Ron, just sign them." I told him, knowing it would clear the girls off quicker. They were somewhat annoying and I could tell Ron hated the attention, but they were young and they weren't asking for much.

"This is embarrassing," he muttered, turning red as he snatched one of the magazines from the closest girl along with the quill she held. Hurriedly, he signed for all five girls, all the time shooting looks at me and trying to hide from the attention this was causing on the street. Other people were looking over, Ron gave them furtive glances and tried to hide again.

"There, all done." He handed the last one back and grasping Hugo's hand again, he tried to move away, gently pushing me along in front of him.

"Oh, please Mr…Ron. Can we just…"

"No, I have to go," he snapped and reached down to pick Hugo up, balancing him on his hip as our son stared at them. "I'm sorry," he added, realising he might have sounded rather rude, and yet he pushed my back again, urging me to get going and get him out of here, away from the throng that now surrounded us.

We'd barely taken five paces, when we were stopped again. A couple thrust their hand out to him, welcoming him back to the Wizarding World. Someone else wanted to stay and chat, mentioning he'd known Ron at school. A little girl came running up, watched closely by her smiling Mother, holding out a flower for him, and a magazine for him to sign.

"I've had about enough of this!" he muttered to me, angrily, but still managed to give the little girl a smile as he accepted her flower and scribbled on her magazine – he wasn't going to be mean to a small child after all. "It's bloody ridiculous!" he added under his breath as she skipped happily back to her Mother and Ron handed the flower to an intrigued Rose.

"Hey Ron! Remember me?" Someone else called out, finding his question funny when it was public knowledge he had memory problems.

"I have to agree," I replied with a sigh. This had been such a bad idea. It was evident we weren't going to get any further shopping done today. "We could always…" I started, but my voice was drowned out by those clamouring for his attention

"I knew you at school Ron!" Someone else yelled above the cacophony of voices. "Welcome back."

"I mourned for you when you died." Another person, a middle aged witch added, a little creepily. "I built a shrine for you." She added, trying to sidle up to him when I noticed the huge badge she was wearing with Ron's face on and that she'd added her own image alongside his. The witch was even giving me the creeps.

"Out of the way, out of the way. Coming through." The owner of the loudest voice pushed his way through everyone. "Trust you Ronniekins, causing a stir are we?" George asked, that daft smirk on his face.

"Don't just laugh. Get me out of here!" Ron demanded, looking relieved to see his brother.

"Exactly why I was coming to your rescue. Now off you go people. Oi! Back up will you! Let them through." George managed the crowd we'd caused, moving people aside and leading us away, towards his own shop. "No, back off!" He yelled at someone. "Can't you see you're scaring the kids?" He asked. Although Rose showed signs of being uneasy about it all whilst I held her close, Hugo was now enjoying the fuss, waving at people and laughing as they all crowded around us. He found the people tripping over one another and falling the most hilarious.

Finally George managed to get us into the shop, closing the doors on the public vying to follow us in. "Right, in here," he opened another door and pushed us inside. "I'll get rid of them and then you can sneak out again." He muttered, before closing the door. "Oh, and no funny business! Not like last time!" He added, chuckling to himself.

"Well," I breathed a sigh of relief, turning to my family to make sure everyone was okay as the door closed safely behind us. "That was…"

"Humiliating." Ron murmured.

"Scary." Rose's bottom lip trembled as she clung to me.

"Funny." Hugo giggled.

"Chaotic." I finished, picking up Rose and cuddling her. Obviously, we all had entirely different views on the situation.

"Did you know all those people daddy?" Hugo asked, wide eyed.

"No son," he answered, perching his backside on a box in the store room. "They were just…"

"Why did those girls say they love you? You love Mummy!" Rose demanded indignantly.

"I do sweetheart. I love your Mummy very much." he smiled at me. "Those girls, they erm...I don't know any of them and they just think…" he looked to me for help.

"They were just fans sweetheart." I told her.

"Fans?" She screwed her nose up, not understanding what that was.

"Yeah. Like how I'm a fan of the Cannons because they're my favourite team. And you're a fan of the fairy princess in that magazine you like? Well, those girls have seen me in magazines, they like my story and think they love me."

"Oh," she replied, though was still confused.

"Hugo! Don't touch anything in here!" I shrieked, noticing he was curiously about to pull a box open. Knowing George, anything stored in here wasn't ready for the public and bound to blow up, jinx you or cause some kind of disaster.

Perching beside my husband and pulling our son onto my lap, I kissed his cheek lightly. "I'm sorry Ron. This was a ridiculous idea coming to the alley. It's far too soon and especially idiotic to come on a Saturday of all days. That chaos was all my fault."

Ron shrugged. "I can't stay locked up in the house forever, can I?" He mumbled, gazing around the store room, frowning slightly as though he was trying to remember the names of Jupiter's Moons for his Astronomy homework. I recognised the look now – a memory was surfacing that he couldn't quite grasp.

"Well, anyway, it was too soon. And, I'm sorry you had to deal with all...that."

He sighed, shrugged again and returned my kiss. "Don't worry abut it. At least George was around to save us."

"How long do you think it will take him to get rid of that mob out there?"

"Heck knows," Ron inhaled deeply and rubbed his eyes. "I mean, they were rather…"

"Hey, coast is clear. Well, for now," George poked his head around the door. "They're erm…probably all going to be rather confused for awhile." He grinned to himself and you just knew he'd done something not completely legal.

"George, what did you…."

"RON!" I was cut off by the shriek of a female and for a moment I thought someone had slipped by George. A woman threw her arms around my husband and hugged him, before backing off quickly and clasping her hands behind her back. "Oh, I'm so sorry, you're probably sick of all that," she apologised and I relaxed when I realised who it was. "It's just, I've missed you," she shrugged awkwardly.

"Oh, erm, that's okay," he replied, blushing. He then looked closer at her and his eyed widened in recognition. "It's…you're Verity, right?" He seemed a little unsure as he asked.

"Yes!" she nodded. "You remember me?" she grinned.

"Vaguely. George may have mentioned you a bit." Ron smiled at her and then looked thoughtful as he glanced around at all the piled boxes. "I worked here, didn't I?" He then asked his brother.

"That you did little brother. Helped me get this place up and running again when my head was in a bad place." He looked sad at the memory for a moment. "Actually," his expression quickly changed. "There might be an opening for you coming up soon if you're interested? Verity, my trusty assistant, as you can see, will be leaving me to pop out a little Verity soon, and…"

"I wish you wouldn't refer to my giving birth like that. Besides, I've already told you it's a boy." She rolled her eyes at him before smiling down at her swollen belly and rubbing a hand over it.

"Well, in any case, she's going to leave me here short handed. Angelina would help out, but someone has to watch the kids and she has her own work. So, if you fancied it Ron?" he asked.

"Oh, erm. I'm not, I don't know…" he stammered out his words.

"Just think about it, okay little brother?" George patted his shoulder.

"Yeah, all right." He nodded. "Hey, by the way, what did you mean by warning us against any funny business in here?" Ron asked, confused.

George laughed whilst both Verity and myself blushed.

"You might want to ask your wife about that one." He chuckled. "Come on kids, I'll show you some new stock and we'll leave your parents to talk." He led the his niece and nephew from the store room, Hugo eagerly skipping ahead, most likely hoping he'd be able to persuade his Uncle to let him choose something. Before he closed the door, George winked at me. "Locks on the outside, remember?" he laughed. Verity followed slowly after them and smacked him for me.

Ron's face was almost pink when I looked back at him, "Did he mean…did we, you know, fool around in here?" He asked once we were alone.

"Erm, maybe. Once." I mumbled in reply, pretending I needed to find something in my bag.

"In here? Around my brother?" His voice went high pitched.

"You weren't so bothered at the time." I shrugged, the memory coming back to me as clear as day and eliciting remembered feelings from that excitement. "It was the Easter holidays, and I was home for the first time since Christmas. We hadn't seen each other since a brief Hogsmeade visit on Valentine's Day."

"Hold on," he held up his hand as he closed his eyes. I noticed he did that then when he was remembering something. "You were coming to meet me, but I was late, still working?" He looked up to check if he on the right track.

I nodded. "We were meant to have lunch together. But, you were still working back here and…"

"And…things got a little hot and heavy?" He asked again, his ears turning a shade of red. "You…you didn't?" he gasped, staring at me wide eyed as that blush spread.

I blushed too, looking sheepish as I nodded again.

"Merlin's arse Hermione! I can't believe you did that! To me…in here!" He gazed around the room, red faced and breathing heavily again.

"Like I said, you didn't complain at the time." I mumbled quietly. It was weird, I was torn between excitement that he'd remembered something significant about us, and yet totally humiliated that he had to remember that moment. I couldn't believe I'd done it either, not then and not here anyway. We'd only slept together a handful of times, so it was rather a bold move on my part. Sex was still new to us though, and hormones were running rampant – the distance and long separations playing havoc with our sexual urges. I'd wanted to surprise him, so I tried, not very expertly I'm sure, to please him.

"Wow," he whispered. "You are a naughty little imp aren't you Hermione Weasley?" he grinned, stepping towards me. "Toss…erm, giving me a hand job in my brother's shop." He shook his head slowly, but the grin and blush was still evident on his face. As was that naughty glint in his eye.

I buried my face in his chest as he pulled me to him. "Only, we knocked over a few boxes in our, erm…enthusiasm and George heard. He came to see what was going on, you just barely got your trousers pulled up in time." I flushed furiously at that humiliating memory.

"Bloody hell!" Ron laughed, though he was still blushing himself. "Did we do stuff like that often?"

I shrugged. "You'll have to try and remember, won't you?" I teased him, hoping it would give him the incentive to keep trying.

"Why you devious…." Ron tugged my body flush against his and tilted my face up to meet his, his lips quickly approaching, when…

"Just thought I'd check on you!" George popped his head around the door and broke into hysterics when he saw the pair of us jerk apart. "Knew I couldn't trust you!" he guffawed. "Come upstairs, I've put the kettle on." He nodded his head towards the private sign and headed up the stairs to the flat. Reluctantly, we both followed him.

"I'm sorry we made you close up shop for a bit. You're busiest day of the week as well." I apologised as we entered the small flat, the children were already sat on the floor with glasses of Pumpkin Juice and playing with a newly hatched litter of purple Pygmy Puffs.

George shrugged. "I was going to close up for lunch soon anyway," he said, making tea for us all.

After sitting down to enjoy lunch with George and Verity, I suggested that Ron stayed here with the children whilst I finished up our shopping as quickly as possible. George had already said we could use his floo in the flat to return home.

"But…bwooms mummy!" Hugo pouted, looking all forlorn.

"He really wanted to see the brooms," Ron pointed out.

"I know, but is it worth dealing with all that chaos again? We have brooms at home you can look at. And Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny have some pretty good ones, might even let you fly on one with them?" I tried to placate our son.

He shook his head, sticking out his bottom lip even further.

"Hardly the same as seeing the very latest broom in all it's finery, is it kid?" George asked him. Hugo shook his head and smiled at his Uncle, pleased someone understood. "Hang on," George held up one finger, before running off downstairs. He returned a moment later with a very orange, crooked witches hat, complete with tassels, and rammed it down on Ron's head.

Immediately his appearance began to change. His hair turned brown and grew longer. He sprouted a beard and his long nose retreated into his face. A pair of glasses sprung up on his face, completing the new look. I looked at Ron in surprise, whilst the children laughed at him. Ron frowned, not quite understanding what had happened as he fiddled with the glasses on his face. "What the bloody…." he began.

"A recent invention," George beamed. "Well, a slight variation of our Headless Hats. Works pretty well, don't you think?" He asked, handing Ron a mirror.

"Bloody hell!" Ron gasped, when he saw his reflection. He tugged at the beard and fingered his hair. Removing the hat briefly, his appearance returned to normal, and then tugging it back on, it changed again.

"So, now you can take Hugo to see the brooms and stuff without all that fuss, whilst Hermione finishes up your shopping in peace." He added, pleased with himself.

"That's amazing," he muttered, still admiring himself in the mirror. "Thanks mate," he smiled at his brother.

"Yay! Bwooms!" Hugo thrust a fist into the air.

"I want to come and see the owls daddy!" Rose got up and joined in the fun.

And for the next hour or so, that's what we did. Ron took the children to the Quidditch supplies store and the magical menagerie, whilst I tackled the boring task of gathering grocery and potion supplies before we all returned home. In the end, it hadn't been such a bad day, but we both agreed that we wouldn't return to Diagon Alley as a family until this whole thing calmed down. At least not without a complete set of George's hats.

* * *

"So," I began, noxing the bathroom light behind me and climbing into bed beside Ron later that night. "Have you given any thought to George's offer?" I wondered, picking up my book from the bedside table.

Ron looked up from studying this seasons British and Irish Quidditch League table. "About what?" He wondered.

"The job? Helping him out in the shop whilst Verity is on maternity leave."

"Oh," he shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, be kind of difficult to work in there right now with all that madness going on, don't you think?" He set the pamphlet aside. "At least without the use of one of those damn hats!"

"Yes, but she's got a few more weeks to go yet. Things will calm down soon, I'm sure. Besides, I'm not sure he'd mind you bringing in extra customers so much." I laughed, finding the right chapter of my book.

"I suppose not. And, I guess it would give me something to do." he mused. "I suppose I need to start thinking about what I'm going to do. I can't exactly go back to the Aurors when I barely remember it, and…we could use a second income." he realised.

We had managed to sort out the matter of the Auror widow fund. Kinglsey had ruled that during his disappearance, I was still a single parent for that time, my husband assumed dead, so I was entitled to the pay. But, although I would not have to pay it back, now he was found, that payments would stop. So, we were living on only my wages now.

"We're okay Ron. But, it might be nice for you to have a job and get out of the house again. Maybe just a few days a week or something?" I suggested, not wanting to push him into anything, but I think he needed something to do it for himself.

"Yeah, maybe. I'll think about it." He muttered, snuggling down under the covers on his side.

I gave up on my book, dropping it onto the bedside table as I noxed the lights in our room. "And of course, if you took a job at the shop again, maybe we could relive some old memories?" I suggested and flashed my eyebrows at him.

Ron smirked, one another visible by the light of the moon illuminating our room. And then he made me squeal as he gave a little growl before pouncing on me, covering my neck and chest in kisses. "That's a pretty big incentive," he mumbled against my throat.

"Mmm, hmm," I moaned in agreement as our hands discovered secret treasures and we spent the next hour or so making love to one another.

* * *

Reviews are loved. Thank so very much for all your kind and generous reviews so far...you guys here are more supportive than my so-called friends! Thank you.

Until next week...the penultimate chapter.


	22. Chapter 22

_Before you read, a couple of apologies - first, sorry it's a bit late again - been visiting my niece tonight for her birthday! Also, this is my shortest chapter and it kind of sucks (even though I re-wrote a lot of it last night), as did the last one. I had this story all planned from the start how it was going to end, but these last 2 chapters were where I got a case of writers block - knew how I wanted to end, couldn't find a way to get there. Anyway, if you can forgive these last 2, I promise the finale is pretty good - I like it anyway :)_

_Thank you as always for your lovely, kind reviews...they mean a lot and I appreciate it - plan to do some longer thank yous after next weeks chapter and some hints to my next pieces of writing._

_Disclaimer: If I was JK Rowling I'd reply to the many questions I ask via twitter! Am I the only one who keeps a constantly being updated word document full of questions to ask her?_

**Chapter Twenty-two**

I woke one morning, startled to realise that summer had already given way to Autumn. That leaves were falling thick and fast from the trees leaving behind a skeleton of their former glory. Ron and I had settled into some kind normality - being husband and wife once more, parenting our children and just enjoying being a happy family again so much that we hadn't noticed the days turning into weeks and then months.

As I had promised him, the scandal soon died down over his reappearance into the Wizarding world. Especially after a popular member of the band, The Weird Sisters, began an affair with a married Muggle. The media soon became obsessed with that story and had fans of the band all riled up so much that people lost interest in us. Oh, we still had the odd fan experience and got recognised when we were out. And he still got letters from girls all swooning after him. I had even received some letters of my own. Mostly from older men, much to the amusement of Ron and our families. These men all claimed they could be even more romantic than Ron, and I often teased him I might just go and see if they were telling the truth whenever he was being difficult. Not that I was ever serious, because in all honesty bickering and arguing with him gave me a sense of familiarity I longed for.

Of course, Ron's new popularity worked wonders for George. He had eventually taken him up on the offer and began working in the shop three afternoons a week, plus alternate Saturdays. The shop was strictly closed every Sunday for family dinner – Molly had laid down the law on that one! But, George benefited considerably from Ron's fans – girls, and women alike took to hanging around the shop whenever he was working and often finished up buying something just as an excuse to talk to him.

Ron had fully embraced being back in our world now. He felt much more comfortable with everything – working, his family and friends, he even took encountering strangers on the street in his stride. He'd been back to the Auror department with Harry one afternoon and had greeted old friends and work colleagues with ease. He wasn't sure if it was something he'd ever want to get back into, at least not any time soon. Right now he was happy enough feeling useful by helping out George at the shop, earning a bit of money and being able to spend quality time with his family.

His memories still weren't fully returned, there had been no major revelations for months now and I was honestly giving up hope there ever would be. Of course there had been silly, obscure details recalled; a random fight with Draco Malfoy at school. The time he had fallen out with Harry over the Tri-wizard Tournament in our fourth year. And embarrassingly enough, the time I had accidentally turned myself into a cat in our second year. There were still times I wished he could remember more about our relationship before – all those milestones in our life together. But the fact that he was alive, that I had him back in my life and we were happy and in love once more seemed to make them less significant. We had a new normal now and new memories to create and I had to focus on our future together, rather than our past.

Right now there was something else consuming my thoughts rather than his lost memories. Ron was most definitely up to something and it was driving me crazy that I couldn't put my finger on what it was. He was most definitely being rather secretive about something that the whole family seemed privy to but me. There were a lot of secretive, whispered conversations going on with random people. The kind of conversations that would end abruptly whenever I was within ear shot. And I was dismayed to discover that even Max and Mildred seemed to be in on it when we took the children to visit.

"Remember though, not a word to her about it," I heard Ron warn them one afternoon as I reached his side. We were outside in the farm yard, enjoying the late October sun.

"Not a word about what to who?" I asked him accusingly, folding my arms and giving him my perfected stare.

"Oh, erm…" he stammered and shuffled, looking guilty about something.

"Rosie," Mildred answered for him. "Ron doesn't think we should tell her about us selling the farm yet, he thinks she'll be too upset about Daisy."

"Wait, you're selling the farm?" I asked, surprised. Distracting me from my annoyance with my husband over his secretiveness.

"Yes, didn't we tell you?" she asked. I shook my head and glared at Ron, blaming that on him as well. He merely shrugged and gave me a sheepish grin. "Well, we've thought long and hard about it, and since Max isn't getting any younger, the farm is a lot of work for him these days. So, we're selling up the farm, giving up the Muggle life and looking at buying a cottage in Hogsmeade." She smiled. She seemed happy with their plans and I was pleased for her, though suspected Max was really going to miss his cows. Glancing across the paddock, I realised he wouldn't be the only one.

"You're right, Rose will be upset about Daisy." They followed my gaze to watch our daughter where she stood on the second rung of the gate, feeding the youngest calf fresh grass and chattering away to her. She'd become quite fond of the young cow in the last few weeks that we'd been visiting. Daisy had been rather a late arrival and Rose had seen her born.

"We'll be making sure all the animals go to a good home. Dairy farms only, none of our girls will be ending up on anyone's plate," Max affirmed.

"Maybe…" I wondered, but then shook my head, thinking it a daft idea.

"Maybe what?" Ron asked, intrigued.

"Well, your mum might like her own cow? Might be good for her to have fresh milk to make her own cheese and butter for all the cooking she does." I suggested.

"Yeah, but Mum's not getting any younger either," he pointed out and I was ashamed to admit I hadn't noticed as much as he had. I suppose with him not having seen her in almost two years and getting to know her all over again, it was more noticeable to him. "It would be a lot of work for her and Dad to milk a cow every day, not to mention the daily care they need." When had he become so sensible?

"Ah, but you're forgetting one thing lad," Max patted him on the shoulder.

"What's that?" Ron frowned.

"Magic," Max laughed. "She'd never have to milk the cow by hand or anything. And they're pretty easy to take care of really, when you have magic to help obviously. If you wanted her, I'd do you a good price."

"Would be an interesting Christmas present?" I raised an eyebrow questionably.

"I don't know," he shrugged, unsure.

"And Rose would be thrilled." I pointed out. The children were still a soft spot when it came to their Dad, he'd do anything for them.

"Well, think about it lad and let me know. We've not had any offers yet, there's still time."

"Okay, we'll talk about it," Ron looked at me and I nodded in agreement.

"Mummy! Mummy!" Rose came tearing across the yard. "Daisy licked my hand," she told me breathlessly. "Her tongues so long and icky," she giggled. "And she knows what I say to her." She was grinning excitedly, wiping her hand on the back of her dress.

"She did?" I smiled at her innocence as I brushed her hair back from her face. She nodded, her beaming face looking up at me. "That's lovely sweetheart. Now where's your brother got to?" I asked, shading my eyes with my hand as I peered around the yard.

"Oh, erm..." she followed my gaze, having lost sight of him also. "He was with me, but now, I don't know," she shrugged.

"Hugo!" Ron bellowed.

"Hugo?" I called as well, starting to worry. There were just too many things for him to get into mischief with around here. Whilst it was delightful they loved something as mundane as a Muggle farm so much, especially with all the magical items they had and spells we did to entertain them at home, I never quite trusted our son. He just had this uncanny knack of getting himself into trouble when he didn't mean to.

"I here Mummy!" He suddenly appeared from nowhere, completely covered in mud and his hair sopping wet. Yet he had the biggest, most satisfied grin on his face.

"Where did you get to?" I demanded, taking in his appearance and screwing my nose up at the smell that was emitting from him.

He shrugged. "Cow shed," he added, as though that should have been obvious.

I groaned, realising that probably wasn't all just mud he was covered in. I think perhaps it was time we got them home and in the bathtub for a jolly good scrub.

We made our goodbyes shortly after, promising to visit again before the farm was gone and give them an answer about Daisy. And just before we left, I caught Ron having another conspirational conversation with Mildred.

I meant to ask him about all the whispering once we got home – I knew something was going on and I didn't quite trust that it had anything to do with Daisy. But, once we got stuck into bathing farm smelly kids, getting tea ready and finally putting them to bed before we could rest for the night, I forgot all about it.

That was until the next day when we were at his parent's house for Sunday dinner. I caught the tale end of a conversation he was having in hushed words with his Mum in the kitchen.

"...really okay to do all the food?"

"Of course love. I'm glad to do it. I'm proud of you." She ruffled his hair as I listened in, unnoticed in the doorway, my arms crossed.

Ron pulled a face, shooing his mother's hands off his head as he smoothed his hair back down. "Well, Mildred told me to tell you she'd be happy to do some baking as well."

"That's very kind of her."

"What's she baking for?" I asked, moving out of the shadows.

"Oh!" Ron jumped and then began rubbing the back of his neck – a habit he had when he was guilty or unsure about something. "Erm..." he stammered, obviously trying to think of something.

Molly simply smiled and picked up the tea towel. "Food for their party," she replied.

"What party?" I asked, as Ron whipped his head around to look at his Mother. Was that news to him as well?

"Why their 'welcome back to the magical world' party, of course," she shook her head slowly and smiled, before bending to take something out of the oven. Ron avoided looking at me as he bent to help her, probably so I couldn't see his eyes because if he wasn't telling me the truth, they would have given him away.

"Oh," I nodded, deciding to play along for now. "Well, that sounds nice," I realised they probably did deserve a party, not just to welcome them back and meet other magical folk, but because of everything they'd done for Ron. I suppose it was feasible that honestly was the case.

Molly nodded whilst watching Ron busy himself with setting the casserole dish on the counter and stirring the contents, his back still to me. "Well, after everything they did for my son," she smiled, reaching for his hair again, though he ducked away from her before she could get her hands on it.

I smiled at her and then remembered what I had come in here for – Hugo had asked me for a drink and I went to fill his cup with more pumpkin juice.

"Could you go and round everyone up dear?" she asked. "Dinner is about ready."

"Sure," I replied and went to let the family know. I missed the sigh of relief Ron exhaled as I left the kitchen.

After generous helpings of chicken casserole with huge fluffy dumplings, followed by bowls of trifle, Angelina and I offered to wash up for Molly whilst everyone else took the kids outside for a run around. I was stood at the sink, arms deep in soapsuds as Angelina stood beside me with the tea towel when I happened to glance out of the window only to catch Ron chatting with Harry and Ginny. Not that that was suspicious in itself – he was close to them once more after all. But, they were all giggling about something and casting cautious glances back towards the house. They didn't seem to notice me watching from the window.

George came ambling over to them, said something to Ron and thumped him on the back jokingly as my husband blushed bright red and tried to shove him off. They all laughed then. I frowned, what the hell was going on? Because I was doubting this story of a party for Mr and Mrs Bridges more and more.

Ron put his finger to his lips when Rose ran over to him and they all hushed up again. I huffed, dropping the mug I had been rinsing and sloshing us both in soapy water. "I'm sorry!" I told Angelina, quickly syphoning us both off with my wand.

"Are you all right? You seem a bit...distracted?" she asked, taking the mug from me to dry it. I knew there was a much faster magical way to get this done and usually I did, but sometimes doing things the slower Muggle way helped me de-stress and think through things.

"He's up to something!" I nodded my head towards the window. Rose was leading her daddy by the hand down the garden now chatting away animatedly, but I just knew they had been whispering about me before that.

"Ron?" she asked. "No, I don't think so," she mumbled and stared intently at the mug she was drying.

"You know something!" I accused her. "What is he up to? Why does everyone keep whispering and laughing about me?"

"Laughing about you? Hermione, no one is laughing about you." She seemed confused.

"Yes they are. Your husband obviously thinks whatever it is is a huge joke. And that's the third time I've seen Ron having hushed conversations with people before they all clam up or change the subject when I approach."

"You may not have noticed, but my husband has the knack of turning most things into a joke?" She asked, raising one eyebrow. "I'm sure it's nothing. Probably work stuff."

"Yeah, because he'd really need to discuss the shop with Mildred," I muttered angrily to myself.

I was quiet for the rest of the afternoon at my in-laws. I didn't witness any further secret conversations, but people did keep looking over at me and giving me big smiles. I felt confused and inside I was actually fuming – convinced I was the butt of some stupid joke. I didn't appreciate being the reason for amusement for any one.

"Okay, what is going on!" I demanded of Ron once we were alone in our room later that night.

"Huh?" he asked, looking at me puzzled as he emerged from the bathroom, clutching the towel at his waist.

"I know something is going on Ron! You're all laughing at me behind my back and I am not amused!" I folded my arms and shifted position so one hip jutted out.

He smiled and shook his head, taking a seat on the bed as he dried himself off. "No one is laughing at you, love. And there is nothing going on."

"Do you think I'm stupid!" I raged. "I've seen your secret conversations and all the giggling. I've heard the conversations that quickly go silent or change whenever I approach. I demand to know what you are up to!" I stuck my chin out defiantly.

"Hermione," he said my name softly and reached for my hand, attempting to tug me closer towards him. I snatched it away. He frowned. "I'm not up to anything. I'm just having fun with my family. I thought that was what you wanted, me getting on with my family like we used to?"

"Not at my expense!" I snapped.

He sighed and loosened his towel to pull his pyjama bottoms on. "Look, there is nothing going on and I don't know why you think anyone is laughing at you!" He rolled his eyes.

"Huh!" I muttered and stormed into our bathroom, slamming the door behind myself. I heard Ron groan back in the bedroom.

We went to bed in silence that night, our backs to one another. Was I wrong not to to trust him about this? Was he telling me the truth? I suppose they could have been planning a party for his old friends. And he was getting along with his siblings again, getting things back to normal – which included the teasing and pranks that involved.

Perhaps I was simply taking things too personally or being paranoid. It was also entirely possible I was being a little selfish and possessive – losing the love of your life for two years could do that to a person. Not to mention the fact I'd had him all to myself for those long months as he regained some memory and confidence, yet now he was off working and hanging out with friends and family more often. Was I accusing him of something just because I was feeling a little neglected? I sighed deeply, pulled the blankets up higher around my neck and made a promise to myself to stop getting snappy with him.

Truth be told, as happy and settled as he seemed to be at home these days, in the back of my mind I always feared he might want to leave. That one day he would wake up and realise he had been much happier when he'd been living a bachelor life on the farm and didn't have to deal with the stress of a family that he was having to get to know all over again.

I knew I had to trust him or I _would_ end up driving him away.

* * *

Nothing was said regarding our conversation the following mornings, but things seemed pretty normal – just Ron getting the kids breakfast, reading the paper and taking far too long in the bathroom. Nothing inconspicuous seemed to be going on and I realised I had just become a paranoid fool.

However, I did notice he was getting more mail than was normal again, and he was hastily sending Beau off with letters when he thought I wasn't looking. I asked him what they were all about, he just shrugged it off and muttered something about fan mail and orders for the shop, which made no sense to me. But I tried to let it go. I was determined it wasn't going to be me who chased him away.

There was a strange incident at his parent's house on the Wednesday though. Ron now worked Tuesday – Thursday afternoons at the shop, so we met up on Wednesday evening at his parents after work for dinner before taking the children home. I apparated into the back yard and smiled when I saw our children through the kitchen window – it was weird how I missed them when I was at work even for just a day. Suddenly, they all darted out of the way whilst excitable squealing and giggling could be heard from the house as people hurried about.

"Quick! Put it in here!" I heard Molly shouting.

"Rose, hide that!" Ron was saying in a hurried loud whisper as I opened the back door.

"Daddy!" Rose squealed and some more scurrying was done before they all stood with their backs to the kitchen table and grinned widely at me as I entered the kitchen.

"What are you up to?" I asked, warily.

"Nothing," Hugo giggled, waving a large wooden spoon at me. Molly noticed it and took it from the little boy, hiding it behind her back.

"Everything's fine," she smiled at me. "Tea love?" She then asked, sliding Ron along a little to hide something that was still behind them as she went to fill the kettle.

"What are you hiding?" I asked, trying to peer around them.

Rose looked at her brother and they both giggled.

"Nothing." Ron winked and took my hand, pulling me through into the lounge before I could see what they had been trying to hide on the kitchen table.

"Ron...what's?"

Before I could finish my sentence, he leant over and kissed me, quite out of the blue and had me struggling for breath when he pulled back. He grinned and ran his finger down my cheek. "Everything's fine. The kids were just...making you something," he lied, tugging me to sit beside him on the couch moments before his Mother came in with a pot of tea. I frowned, not convinced, but chose not to argue with him on it. I knew they were all up to something – but I guess Christmas was only a couple of months away after all – I suppose I had to accept they might have surprises they didn't want spoiling.

That same night I entered our bedroom to find Ron sprawled across our bed, studying our wedding album, smiling wistfully at each photo. My heart began to pound, wondering if maybe he had remembered something significant for us – our wedding day – one of the happiest days of my life.

"What you doing?" I tried to sound nonchalant as I put some cleans clothes away in the drawers. I'd thought he'd been busy up here putting the kids to bed.

"Just looking," he shrugged, closing the album and looking up at me with a smile. "I was just thinking though, do you still have your wedding dress?"

"Erm, yeah. Its in the loft, in a chest. Why?" I wondered, sitting on the end of the bed and turning the album towards me. There was one of my favourites photos of us on the front – right after we'd been declared husband and wife and we were sharing our first married kiss.

He shrugged again. "Just wondering. You looked so beautiful." He then gazed at me.

I laughed and reached out to run my fingers through his hair. "Flattery will get you nowhere mister," I giggled and kissed his cheek before standing from the bed and going to put some clean towels away in the bathroom. "I've been wondering too," I began, leaning against the door frame.

"Oh?" he looked up at me and for just a second I thought I saw panic on his face. But when I blinked it was gone.

"Yes," I moved back beside him on the bed. "How do you feel about us all taking a holiday together somewhere? You, me and the kids? Somewhere fun?" I suggested.

"Oh," he blinked at me. "Erm...well," he began rubbing the back of his neck. "It's a bit close to Christmas isn't it?"

"So?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. "We might be able to get a good deal this time of year. We could even take the kids to a Muggle resort in the sun?" I smiled. It sounded like a good idea to me – the kids would love playing on a warm beach somewhere and splashing in a pool whilst Ron and I relaxed in the sun.

He grimaced and looked down, avoiding my eyes. "I don't know Hermione," he mumbled.

"If you don't want to, just say!" I snapped, a little affronted by his reaction. I honestly thought he might fancy the idea of us getting away as a family. Did he not want to spend time with us? Were my fears not quite so unjustified?

"It's not that love. It's just..." He faded off, seemingly unable to think of a reasonable excuse.

"Fine, never mind. We won't bother then!" I stood from the bed quickly and was about to leave the room.

"Wait," he caught my wrist. "A holiday together sounds brilliant. But, maybe leave it until after Christmas, yeah? This is my first Christmas home again, you know Mum's going to make a big deal of it, and..."

"Christmas is still seven weeks away Ronald!" I pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," he shrugged. "But...I'd like to get prepared early this year."

"Huh," I scoffed. Ron had never prepared early for anything in his life. But then, I suppose suffering with amnesia changed you – you were never quite the same person again even if all your memories came back. Some little characteristic would be forever changed.

"Hermione, love," he climbed off the bed. "A family holiday sounds wonderful and I would love to go away with you. We had fun on our last little trip, right?" He wiggled his eyebrows at me. I rolled mine, fighting back a smile. "And I know the kids would love it. Just, leave it for a few months? Okay?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

"Fine," I sighed, folding my arms, still a little put out. "I'm going to go make hot chocolate, you want one?" I asked, opening the bedroom door.

"That would be great, thanks love." He kissed my cheek and we left our room together.

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Reviews are always loved :) Last chapter next week :(


	23. Chapter 23

_So, here it is, the final chapter in this story. I really, really hope you like it as this finale had been my goal from the very start of planning!_

_It's full of saccharine sweet fluff though – be warned!_

_There's a whole load of thank you and everything on the next chapter if you wish to read, including some info on future writing!_

_Disclaimer: Not JK, never have been and never will be :p_

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**Chapter 23**

"'H'mione," Ron muttered sleepily, nudging me across the bed. "Someone's at the door.".

"Huh?" I asked, waking suddenly.

"Door," he muttered and rolled over, snuggling back under the blankets.

I frowned and listened for the door myself. It was unusual for us to have visitors at the front door – unless it was my parents. The rest of the family usually just flooed or apparated directly into the house and it was rare we got visits from none family members.

"That's not the door," I grumbled once I heard the sound he was on about. Climbing from the cosy cocoon of our bed, where up until a couple of minutes ago we had been curled up together fast asleep, I stumbled towards the window. "That's a flaming owl at the window." I muttered, opening the curtains to find a Ministry owl tapping his beak against the glass again. I let him in, taking the letter from him and climbing back into bed to read my note. Which I did with a groan of dismay.

"What's wrong?" Ron opened one eye and peered at me.

I sighed deeply, refolding my letter. "I'm needed at work. Apparently there's some huge emergency."

"But, it's Saturday," he whimpered and pulled me to snuggle back with him.

"I know..." I yawned, wanting nothing more than to crawl back under the sheets. It had been a hectic week at work – already I had worked extra hours this past week and I had been looking forward to a couple of days rest. "But, this note is from Kingsley himself, I can't ignore that." I bent to kiss the top of his head before extracting myself from his arms and climbing from the bed.

"You have to go now?" He sat up and pouted as I began to find my clothes.

"I'm sorry," I looked back at him over my shoulder, he was knuckling one eye as he yawned. "I'll be home as soon as I can though, okay?" I promised before nipping into the bathroom quickly.

Half an hour later I was dressed and had gulped down a mug of tea and a slice of toast before leaving my family all tucked up in their beds and taking the floo to the Ministry.

Within five minutes of my arrival, I was up to my eyes in paperwork that apparently couldn't wait – the same way it had been all week. I wasn't even sure what it was all for – just something about a crime against a Muggle-born family and they were rushing the case through the Wizengamot for some reason. I couldn't understand what made this case different from other terrible crimes, but not wanting to cause a fuss, just got on with my work as speedily as I could.

Even still, it was almost two in the afternoon before I made it home and I felt terrible that I had missed the best part of the day to spend with my family.

I apparated into our front garden for a change – wanting to creep in and surprise them. Instead I found myself puzzling over the fact that my parents car was parked in the driveway – they'd never said anything about popping over. Ron had opened the door and swept me up into a big hug before I had even reached for the door handle. I hadn't had chance to get a single word out when he suddenly kissed me intensely before grabbing my hand and pulling me through to the study downstairs, closing the door firmly behind him.

"Ron...what on earth are you doing and why are my parents here?" I asked in one long breath, not noticing the nervous way he was wringing his hands and rubbing the back of his neck repeatedly.

"Oh, your parents, they just popped over to see the kids. They're in the back garden with them. But..."

"I should go and say hello," I decided, reaching for the door.

"No!" he almost shouted and grabbed my hand to pull me back. "I mean, erm..." he stammered and was beginning to blush at the tips of his ears. "I just, I want to ask you something first." He lowered his voice.

"Okay," I looked at him warily, realising he was acting strange. "Go on then," I prodded when he didn't speak after a few moments. "What is it?"

"Erm. Yeah. Well...the thing is..." he began.

"Ron? Is something wrong?" I immediately thought the worst.

"Wrong? No!" he exclaimed and then groaned at himself, giving a little grimace. "This isn't coming out right. Here, sit down." He pushed me into the armchair in the corner of the room and then knelt on the floor in front of me.

I looked at the floor, thinking he had dropped something. "Whatever are you..."

"Ssh!" he hissed and took my hand as he took a deep breath. "Hermione," he spoke in almost a whisper and then cleared his throat. "Hermione, love...I hope you know how much these last few weeks have meant to me. How much I appreciate you giving me my life back, giving me my family, our children, and...you." He smiled up at me. "And, I hope you know that I do love you, very much." He was blushing furiously now and sweating a little as he paused to wipe his forehead on his arm. "I know none of this has been easy on you, and..."

"What are you rambling on about?" I interrupted him impatiently.

"Hermione, please let me get this out," he groaned. "This isn't easy for me."

"Okay, I'm sorry," I sighed and tried to be patient as he stroked his thumb across the knuckles of my hand he was holding.

"Well...I just. I was thinking, we could have a fresh start. Begin our life again. I mean begin our relationship again. So, I was hoping we could...I mean, what I want to ask you is, will you marry me, again?"

I stared at him wide eyed, unable to believe my own ears at first. Had my husband just asked me to marry him? Again? Or was I going crazy? "What?" I blurted out, confused. "But, Ron, we are married. It's still perfectly legal."

"I know that," he grunted, sounding disappointed by my reaction. "I know that technically we are still married. But...we've both been through so much these last couple of years I want to make this a fresh start for us. I love you, Hermione and I want, no, I need you to know this is exactly where I want to be, with you and our children. And I want you to know I'm not going anywhere. You're a special part of who I am and I want to prove that with renewing my vows to you. So, will you?" He looked up at me with a hopeful look on his face.

I smiled down at where he was still knelt at my feet. How could I not agree after that heartfelt speech? "Yes," I replied and squeezed his hand. "I think that sounds like a lovely idea." I agreed with him before he raised himself up and swept me into his arms with a whoop of joy. He hugged me tight as I wrapped my arms around him and then he pulled back slightly so as our lips could meet in a sweet kiss.

"I have one more thing I'd like you to do for me," he began, brushing wisps of my hair from my face.

"Okay..." I answered, warily.

"I've laid some clothes out on our bed. Would you go upstairs and put them on for me?" he requested, bashfully.

"Ron!" I blushed. "My parents are right outside and I should go and see them. They must be freezing!" I suddenly realised. "We can't...play any silly games right now," I added in a hushed whisper, thinking he was perhaps suggesting something a little kinky.

He shook his head and laughed. "That's not what I meant. Just indulge me for a moment, please? You'll see." He smiled, getting to his feet and pulling me up to.

I sighed and shook my head, admitting to myself that right now I would probably do anything for him after that proposal. "Fine. But will you tell my parents I'll be out soon? And I hope whatever this is, it's appropriate!" I added, as he let my hand go at the bottom of the stairs.

I was still smiling to myself when I stepped into our bedroom, just wondering what had gotten into my husband – it had been a long time since he'd been this romantic. And yes, Ron did know how to be romantic! Long gone was the silly oaf of a teenager who always put his foot in it. I gasped when I glanced at our bed and saw the outfit he expected me to put on for him. What in Merlin's name was he thinking?

Draped across our bed was my wedding gown and veil. The very same one I had worn when I had first made my one and only true love my husband. Why did he want me to wear it now? I ran my fingers down the lace and satin, remembering our wedding day as though it was only yesterday – the happiest day of my life, at least until our children were born. And now he expected me to parade around the house in my gown that meant so much to me?

I sighed deeply as I frowned in confusion. Then, by chance, I happened to glance out of our bedroom window over looking the back garden. At first I was confused when I couldn't see my parents or our children out there, only then realising the reason I couldn't see them was because my view was hindered by the huge tent bedecked in flowers, tulle and streamers that filled much of the garden.

"Bloody Hell!" I gasped Ron's favourite phrase to myself – it seemed appropriate right now. Was he expecting us to renew our vows right this moment? Was that why my parents were here? I was still gazing out the window, in contemplation, when there was a knock at the door and Ginny poked her head around it.

"Thought you might like some help in getting ready?" she asked, stepping into our room in all her finery.

"You knew about this!" I pointed my finger accusingly.

She shrugged, a knowing smirk on her face. "He's been planning it for a couple of weeks." She admitted.

"Merlin's pants!" I gasped and fell onto the bed, careful to avoid my dress. "So, that's what he was up to!"

"Hermione?" she asked, worried. "I know maybe it's a bit sudden. I tried to tell him he should at least wait to get your answer and then you could plans things together. But, he insisted on doing it this way. He wanted to surprise you, said it was romantic!" She rolled her eyes, obviously having her own opinion about that. "But...if you don't want to do this right now, I think he'd understand."

I shook my head slowly, fighting back tears.

"I'd talk to him for you," she offered, putting her hand on my shoulder.

"Oh, its not that. It's just...it's too much," I sniffed, realising my eyes were pooling with tears. "I knew he was up to something. But I was starting to think he'd had enough of playing families and wanted to go back to the life of a singleton, before he remembered any of us. And...yet, he's been doing all this," I waved my arm around in a big show.

"I know," Ginny smiled. "I suppose that daft brother of mine can be kind of sweet when he wants to be. So...you do want to do this right now?" She asked, her hand squeezing my shoulder. "I'm here to help if you want me to. Either way."

I bit my bottom lip, not even needing a moment to think about it. I felt beyond touched that Ron had planned all this, by himself, with no prompt from me. Simply because he loved me and wanted to promise himself to me all over again, for us to start anew. It was more than I deserved, more than I ever hoped for. So, some personal memories of us hadn't come back for him yet, but did that really matter in the big scheme of things? We were together and we loved one another, he apparently loved me so much he wanted to marry me all over again. I knew my answer.

"Yes," I looked up at Ginny. "I want to do this, right now." I nodded.

She smiled and gave me a quick hug before I began to get ready. After a quick shower to freshen up from a hectic morning at work, Ginny sat me at the dressing table to begin work on my unruly hair. Make up was applied and I finally slipped back into the gown I hadn't worn in over seven years. I was amazed it still fit me so well – especially after giving birth to two children.

"Ron put a charm on it, so it would still fit you no matter what," she explained, smoothing the fabric down. "He thought of everything."

"He really did." I smiled at my reflection in the mirror whilst we fitted my veil on. I was ready. Ready to once again marry my husband and strangely, the same flock of butterflies I'd had in my stomach on that day seven and a half years ago had returned.

Another knock came to the bedroom door as Ginny answered it to our Mother's. Molly handed me a beautiful bouquet of flowers – an exotic mix of the magical and more common Muggle varieties in soft shades of pinks and purples..

"You look beautiful," she smiled, adjusting my veil slightly. "Just as you did the first time you married my youngest son." She was beaming. "I'm so proud of you."

"Be proud of your son. He did all this," I replied, accepting her hug.

"Oh, I am. Whoever thought he was capable of being a hopeless romantic?" She laughed, dabbing at her eyes as she pulled back.

"I'm so happy for you sweetheart. You deserve this happiness after everything you went through." My Mum took her turn in giving me a hug. "And Molly is right, you do look beautiful. Ron is a very lucky man."

"And I hope he knows it!" Ginny added with a laugh.

"I'm sure he does," Molly smiled.

"We should probably get started," Ginny glanced out of the window and then looked back to see if I was ready.

"Good look sweetheart," Mum kissed my cheek and Molly smiled at me, her hand to her chest before they left the bedroom.

"Ready for this?" Ginny asked after they'd closed the door.

I took a deep breath. "Is it silly for me to be so nervous to marry the man I've already been married to for seven years?"

"When you're marrying my idiot brother again all over again? Nah!" Ginny teased and held out her hand to me. "Come on." She tugged on my hand and began to lead me downstairs.

My dad was waiting in the kitchen, dressed in his suit, waiting to give me away once more. "Didn't think I'd get to do this again," he muttered as Ginny slipped outside and left us to it. "Is this really what you want?"

"You asked me that on my original wedding day," I remembered, fondly.

"Just making sure love. Just making sure." He patted my hand where it was looped through the crook of his elbow.

"Yes. I'm sure. Ron is everything to me. You saw how lost I was without him, how life held little meaning for me. He's the only man I have ever loved." I smiled, more sure about this now than ever. The whole thing - him proposing to me again, his speech, the secret plans he'd made, all of it was perfect.

"Then let's get this show on the road," he laughed, using the same words he'd used back then.

Stepping from the kitchen, into our back garden and into the tent, I realised why no one was freezing back here in the late November weather – the tent was charmed to replicate a perfect spring day. Butterflies and flitterbys both fluttered in and out of bushes and around the beautiful flowers arranged everywhere. Folds of soft fabric and pale lilac ribbons bedecked each pole and draped the roof of the tent, softening the effect. Floating magical candles lit up around the room and the soft orange glow from the flitterby's wings gave everywhere a rather ethereal look.

I was slightly stunned by all the guests that were here – all our family, a majority of our friends – including Mr and Mrs Bridges. Even some work colleagues had turned up, including Kingsley who flashed me a somewhat incriminating smile. I wondered briefly if this morning had been nothing but a ruse to get me away from the house so Ron could prepare all this? I highly suspected there had been no 'emergency' at work at all. I couldn't find it in myself to be mad about that though.

By now I wasn't at all surprised to find our own children all dressed up, ready to act as my bridesmaid and pageboy. Rose looked so sweet in a new knee length, lilac dress and Hugo adorable in a miniature version of his Dad's dress robes. Dress robes that he was fussing with.

"You look beautiful Mummy!" Rose beamed up at me, taking her role seriously as she clung to her flowers.

"Thank you sweetheart," I kissed the top of her head. "And you and your brother look lovely too," I smiled, smoothing down Hugo's hair.

He grimaced at me. "This thing scratchy!" He grumbled, pulling at the collar.

"Leave it!" Rose tapped his hand away. "Daddy says we have to wear these to help him marry Mummy!" She scowled at him as Hugo huffed loudly.

"You can get changed later," I promised him. "But, thank you for wearing it for Daddy and I." I cupped his cheek and bent to kiss the top of his head too, earning myself another grumble and huff from the little boy. Apparently weddings were not his idea of fun at all.

Music started then, coming from seemingly nowhere and filling the tent as everyone got to their feet.

"I think that's our cue," I whispered to the children and my father. I took hold of his elbow again as Rose herded her brother into position behind us – obviously she'd listened intently when her role had been explained to her. "Ready?" I asked everyone before we began to head down the aisle.

I looked up after a couple of steps and my eyes fell on Ron waiting at the alter. In that instant, our guests may have disappeared, he was all that existed to me and my eyes were only for him. He stood and turned towards me with a huge grin lighting up his entire face and looking so handsome and debonair in a set of brand new dress robes.

Once I reached his side, my Dad passed me off to him as I handed my flowers to a very happy looking Rose. Ron clasped both of my hands in his and grinned at me, mouthing the words 'so beautiful'. I ran a thumb over his knuckles, a nervous flutter in my belly and a smile so wide I thought my face would ache later. I could barely remember feeling this happy.

I hardly noticed the words the same little wizard who had married us originally was saying. The same small, tufty haired wizard who had conducted all the Weasley weddings, as well all the solemn memorials after the war I remembered with a hint of sadness. Loved ones were still missed – as they always would be. The pair of us gazed into one another's eyes, the world ceasing to exist for us both momentarily, at least until Ron was prompted to speak.

He took a deep breath and squeezed my fingers in his as he gave me a little grin. "Harry reckons you saved us from ourselves countless times as kids. Either because we were just stupidly impulsive or simply because you were more informed than we were. And, I reckon you're still doing that today, saving me I mean. When I saw you seven months ago at that pub in Woldsea, I never imagined you were going to save me in every way that a person could be saved. You gave me back my life, Hermione. You gave me a home, a family, our children and more importantly, your unyielding love. I know some of the past is still hazy for me, but I also know without a doubt that it's with you that I want to spend the rest of my life with. You're the only woman I want to grow old with and watch our children grow. And, I couldn't be more thankful that you never gave up on me and that you followed some crazy notion to find me in that village. I love you Hermione, and I always will."

I blinked away tears at his words, knowing what it had taken for him to admit his most private feelings in front of family and friends. He was a shy man about his emotions usually, saved for personal moments behind closed doors, so I was touched he had opened up in front of everyone, that he'd done it for me. And then I realised that I was expected to speak next and I was nervous – I felt like I was being put on the spot for an exam I hadn't studied for.

"Ron..." I began, nervously. "As you well know, I dislike going into anything unprepared," I earned myself a titter from our guests. "And, this whole event has totally been sprung on me today. But, there's nothing to think about when it comes to the way I feel for you, I know." I smiled at him as he squeezed my fingers reassuringly. "Losing you and those two years we spent apart were easily the worst time I have ever lived through. From being 11 year old kids, you had always been by my side, first as my friend and later as my lover. The loss of you was like a part of myself was missing...I never felt whole. Having you here now, standing before me, proclaiming your love to me again is more than I ever dared to hope for, more than I deserve. I didn't think I would be lucky enough to experience a love so strong twice in my lifetime, but I have, from the same man. I am forever grateful that destiny gave you back to me, gave us a second chance and this time, I have no intention of letting you go. Nothing will ever part us again. I love you Ron. I always have and I always will."

The tiny wizard spoke a few more words, declaring us husband and wife once more and finally Ron leant in to claim my lips in a soft, sweet kiss as some of George's new silent and fire free fireworks exploded above us, showering us in rose petals and heart shaped confetti. Our guests applauded as we parted, grinning at one another, Ron blushing slightly as we made our exit back down the aisle, hand in hand.

Ron tugged me out of the tent, away from prying eyes for a moment and kissed me again, deeper this time, more passionate. "Are you mad?" he asked, eyeing me warily.

"Mad?" I asked, confused. "Not at all." I shook my head. "This has all been beautiful and amazing. _You're_ amazing!" I smiled at him, pulling him back for another kiss.

At that moment we were interrupted by well wishers congratulating us and wanting to give us hugs. Many of them joked about the huge secret Ron had managed to keep for the last couple of weeks as he'd planned all this, whilst our children clamoured around us for attention.

"Mummy, I take this off now?" Hugo was tugging at his robes again.

"I knew he wouldn't keep that on," Ron laughed.

"I did promise, didn't I?" I bent down to him. "Thank you for being a good boy and wearing it for a little while though. You looked very handsome, like your daddy." I smiled, helping him off with it. I was grateful that whoever had dressed him had thought to put his usual clothes on underneath that he was more comfortable in. Rose on the other hand was more than happy to flounce around in her new lilac frilly dress. I don't know where she got her girly tendencies from, but it certainly wasn't her mother!

"Mate!" Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder. "Congratulations," he beamed at us, giving us both tight hugs. "So pleased for you both, you sappy bugger!" he laughed good naturedly, but you could tell by his face how genuinely happy and pleased he really was for his best friends. Harry had suffered almost as much when Ron was missing – missing the young boy who had become his first ever friend and grown into his most trustworthy confidante. To see us all back together was an obvious joy for him.

Ginny, standing beside Harry with Lily in her arms, gave us hugs too. "I can't believe my prat of a brother made me cry!" she sniffed, smiling as she lightly punched her brother's upper arm.

"Yeah, love you too Gin'!" Ron grinned at her, holding tightly onto me. I didn't think he had any intentions of letting me go at all tonight.

"Mummy, what's bugger?" Lily looked up at her parents, innocently. Harry grimaced and tried to make a hasty retreat, muttering something about checking on their boys.

"Oh no you don't, Potter! You explain your bad language to your daughter!" She laughed, passing Lily over and chasing after them.

Ron and I laughed as we watched them leave, before he tugged me into his arms again and claimed my lips for another kiss.

The tent was magically transformed by the time we went back inside – tables and chairs rearranged in clusters and a dance floor cleared in the centre. The food, which I had caught Ron discussing with his mother the weekend before was laid out in a huge spread along a back table, including some donations from other family members as well as Mrs Bridges. I also discovered what they'd been up to in the kitchen at The Burrow a couple of days ago – the children had been helping Molly to decorate the cake.

"I hope you won't be too upset with me for dragging you in to work this morning Hermione." Kingsley Shacklebolt approached us. "Ron insisted it was for a good cause." He laughed uncomfortably.

Ron shrugged. "I needed to get everything ready, Mr Shacklebolt promise to keep you busy for me whilst we set everything up."

"I forgive you," I smiled at the elder man. "I'll forgive people for most things right now though," I confessed. I felt as though I was on cloud nine.

"Good to know." He smirked and left us to it to fill a plate with food.

We laughed and chatted with friends – some of whom hadn't seen Ron since his return. He spun me around the dance floor a few times, until other's cut in or we indulged our children in dances. We filled our belly's with the abundant delicious food and just had a damn good time. In some ways this was even better than our original wedding day – back then I had been somewhat nervous. I was sure about my decision in choosing Ron, but a little worried to begin married life – I didn't want it to change us. Now, I felt more secure in my role as a wife and I knew we would be fine. If we could survive what we'd been though, I knew we could survive anything.

"We should probably get going," Ron checked his watch just before 10pm. I had just been thinking I should get the children to bed – they were both flagging now, Hugo napping already on his Nana's lap.

"Going? Where?" I frowned at him.

He grinned. "Our second honeymoon." He flashed his eyebrows.

"Honeymoon? But, we can't go away. The children, I have work and..."

"All taken care of love." He pressed a kiss to the side of my head. "The children are staying with Mum for a few days and I cleared you some time off work."

"Ron," I sighed. "It's a lovely idea, but...we're so busy at work right now and I've had so much time off this year already, I..."

"Kingsley insisted!" He assured me. "He says we deserve it. Besides, why do you think he's had you working extra hours this last week? So you could get ahead in your work. Come on, we have a whole week. I thought we could spend a few days alone and then come pick up the kids and take them away somewhere too?" He suggested.

I smiled, knowing I was going to give in to him as my arguments all but deflated. "I suppose you have our bags packed and everything as well, right?"

He nodded, a smug grin on his face.

I laughed, shaking my head – I liked these new changes in Ron. "Then, yes. I think we should be going," I agreed with him as he took my hand.

We said quick goodbyes to our family and friends, thanked them all for coming and helping make this day perfect. I kissed my sleepy children goodnight, promising to see them in a few days and do some fun things together. Molly assured me they'd have plenty of fun with her at The Burrow and not to worry about them.

After a quick change of clothes, Ron grabbed our already packed bags and we disapparated away for our second honeymoon. After buying our house together, we hadn't had much money for our first honeymoon, so it had been spent in France, staying in a guest house that belonged to Fleur's family they had let us borrow. I hadn't a clue where we were heading now, I just clung to Ron and let him lead the way.

It was with a pleasant surprise to find ourselves at the hotel in Scotland, the same hotel where we had rekindled our marriage just a few short months ago. After he checked us in and we made our way to our room – the same room we'd stayed in before, I marvelled at how far we'd come in such a short space of time. Back then I wondered if I would ever really get my husband back – and now look at us!

I'm not ashamed to admit we didn't make it much further than the bed. Our bags had been dumped by the door as he gave me a smile filled with all sorts of naughty promises, promises I was eager for him to fulfil. The kiss was deep, intense and hungry as we wrapped ourselves in one another on the bed. Hands began to caress one another, searching out buttons and zippers on clothing in haste. My kisses tumbled from his lips to kiss along his strong jawline and on down his neck.

"Hermione," Ron sighed my name.

"Ron," I replied, my fingers finally finding the buttons on his shirt and popping them open.

"Hermione...wait," he murmured, trying to back away from me. I pouted and reached for him again – we hadn't had much time for one another this last week and I hungered for him. He sighed as I pressed my lips against his chest. "No...wait. I need to tell you...something," he murmured, fighting back my advances.

"Tell me later," I mumbled, my lips on his hot skin.

"I need to tell you now. Please?" He gasped and took hold of my hand that was making progress on those blasted buttons.

"What is it?" I looked up at him impatiently.

He smiled and kissed the fingers of my hand he was still holding. "I remember." He then told me shyly.

"You remember what?" I asked, intrigued. Was it possible this day had stirred up old memories from our original wedding day?

He dipped his head and gave a slight shrug of one shoulder. "Everything." He then confessed and raised his eyes slowly to meet mine.

"Everything?" I gaped at him as he nodded. "How?" I sat upright on the bed, accidentally knocking him away from me. "When? How?" I asked again, becoming more animated with each question. I was utterly flummoxed by this, almost lost for words.

Ron gave a soft little chuckle. "I've been remembering stuff the past couple of weeks, whilst I was planning all this." He admitted. "I remember our first kiss, in the middle of battle, and Harry rudely interrupting a kiss that had been years in the making. I knew there was a possibility we might not make it through that night and I wasn't planning on going without at least kissing you, so when you pounced on me..." he grinned wryly at me.

"I did not pounce," I feebly protested. "I...I...hmm," I sighed, realising he was probably right – I had sort of leapt on him, feeling the same way he had about taking the chance whilst we could.

"I remember the first time we had sex," he whispered against my ear, tugging me into his arms to rest against his chest.

"Really?" I wondered.

He nodded and kissed my temple. "We were at your parents house. You were home for Christmas from school and it was Boxing Day. Your parents had gone to take your Great Aunt home, they got delayed and you invited me up to your bedroom," he winked.

I stared at him, amazed. "You do remember!" I gasped.

"I also remember you panicking and scrambling to get our clothes back on before we got caught!" He laughed and I joined in with him. "I remember a few...playful times in that store room at the shop too," he chuckled again as I blushed.

"Could have done without you remembering those," I muttered, mortified he'd mentioned them. At the time we'd been young and finding it hard to find any privacy, plus this whole sexual contact was rather new and exciting to us at the time.

He smirked and kissed my temple. "You are beautiful when you blush," he murmured. "Which reminds me of our meet ups during your Hogsmeade visits when I could get a day off from Auror training...and the fact we'd be missing for hours." He flashed his eyebrows at me suggestively.

I thought back to those days myself, cringing at one particular memory – a time when Harry and Ginny had come looking for us and caught us in a rather...embarrassing predicament. Trust him to be remembering all our sexual encounters!

"I can remember moving into that flat with Harry, and how we drove him crazy with you staying over so much once you graduated. Me finally finishing Auror training and you being so proud of me. And then, the day I finally proposed to you. I remember being so pissed that Harry had beat me to it and asked Ginny first! I'd carried a ring around for months, trying to get up the courage to ask you and then he bloody well swooped in and stole my moment. I had to wait even longer then, otherwise I thought you'd think I was just copying him."

"You never told me that before," I looked up at him.

He shrugged. "Still, we beat them to our actual wedding day, didn't we?" He asked, proudly. "And, you looked so beautiful on that day, just as beautiful as you did today." He kissed my lips softly.

"You really remember everything?" I whispered softly, taking his hand and twirling the wedding band on his finger.

"Everything," he nodded. "Our very long and satisfying wedding night," he smirked. "How I felt when you told me I was going to become a father for the first time and how I went into a panic!" He laughed at himself. "The drama and then complete elation when Rose was finally born, you had a long labour," he clarified. "Finding out we were expecting Hugo just days before Harry and Ginny announced she was pregnant again. Every significant moment from our life together. It's all back." He whispered before kissing me.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I wondered, looking up to meet his eyes.

He shrugged one shoulder, giving me an impish smile. "At first it was all coming back very slowly, a few snatches here and there and I wanted to get things straight, so I could surprise you. But, a couple of days ago a flood of memories began. I don't know why or how, but it was like a door was suddenly opened and all those missing pieces tumbled out again, falling back into place in my head. Maybe it was my planning this renewal ceremony...I don't know. But, you can't begin to understand how glad I am or how precious all those memories are to me."

"As they are to me," I flung my arms around him, holding him tight, tears sliding down my cheeks in happiness. I felt so overwhelmed with it all – everything I had been wishing for, my husband back, memory complete. "I love you," I pulled back to kiss him. "I love you so fucking much!" I shouted and kissed him again, more forcefully.

"Did you just swear?" he asked, teasing me, hands rubbing up and down my back as he smiled against my head.

"Oh shush!" I told him, pulling him into my arms again. "You're back, aren't you? I really have all of my husband back?" I murmured into his neck.

"You have me Hermione. You'll always have me. I love you too, and I always will." He promised me with a soft kiss. "Nothing will ever separate us again, because I know now that my soul will always recognise yours, we'll always find one another eventually. We're bound together, forever more."

"Just as we should be," I sighed, our lips meeting in a soft kiss full of love and promise.

The End

* * *

_I did warn you about the excess of fluff and sap! I think after the last two years they've had, they bloody well deserve it though!_

_It might be the end of this one, but reviews are still most definitely loved and appreciated very much!_

_Thank you!_


	24. Thank you!

Now that this story is complete, I wanted to say a huge thank you to **everyone** who has taken the time to leave a review – either as a member or a guest. I have been overwhelmed by some comments/reviews and they have put huge smiles on my face when nothing much else has!

Also, a major thank you to my multiple reviewers for always being so kind and encouraging for many chapters. Namely tabitoo, zalini, tryntee13, Laura4423 and nellyish - I do apologise for not replying to your generous words (I actually wasn't aware you could until recently) but please know how much they meant to me.

I also thank anyone who has read and enjoyed my piece of fanfiction here. Reviews are important to a writer – how else do we know you like our work and to keep posting if you don't tell us? Most people I know that write, initially do so for themselves, for their own personal enjoyment. However, we take the time to post online (and that can take some time to get it all uploaded and everything) to share our work with you and hope you enjoy it. Which is why reviews are so important – whether it's one or dozens – they all mean a lot. But, I also understand you don't always have time to leave a review or you don't know what to say about it or how to tell them what you did or didn't like about it. I have been guilty of that myself in the past...but I'm working on it. Incidentally, as a writer, I would say that simply saying 'great writing/story, I enjoyed that,' is perfectly acceptable.

I shall now confess how incredibly nervous I was to post my very first Harry Potter fan fiction here (though, not the first HP fic I have written – there is something buried on my laptop that will never see the light of day :p) I know there's an incredibly high standard of writing here and also so, so many stories to wade through. So, I was nervous mine might not be liked or go unnoticed. I'm so glad that wasn't the case. People who claim to be my friends haven't been as supportive in my writing as you readers have been.

It's been a long time since I shared any of my work with the public and I am glad I took the plunge again, because all of your reviews has done wonders for my lack of self esteem and also given me the encouragement to start working on more. I am pleased to tell you that I am going to be working on some more Romione stuff...they are my OTP and I have enjoyed being in their heads and working with them more than I realised I would.

First up will be a small selection of rather long 'one shots' based upon missing moments from this story. They're all memories that were mentioned but not really expanded on. A couple of them are already written (bar some editing) After that I have plans for another multi chapter story based much earlier in their relationship – the year following Hermione's completion of her 7th year.

I do tend to write slow (I have a rather strange writing technique, but it works for me) so, please be a bit patient. However, the one shots will begin posting soon.

Again, a huge thank you and I am so glad you enjoyed my story.

P.S. Sorry for this long ramble :p


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